Always and forever, not!
by Nikkitosa
Summary: "Sometimes when you go looking for a better future you end up re-living the awful past." He looks at me from behind his painting, his eyebrows raised. "And since when did you become such a great thinker, darling?" I roll my eyes at that mocking remark. "Since I had the misfortune to meet you!" Klaus/OC main pairing
1. Meet 'em all

_QUICK NOTE/DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and Angelique, unfortunately :( I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes. I hope you like this version of the Mikaelsons! Feel free to write a review if you enjoyed my hard work ;) Any type of criticism and praise are welcomed! Now, enjoy!  
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_~ Nikkitosa 3_

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_I knew it was a bad idea. A really bad idea to be precise. After all who, in their rightful mind, meddles with the Original family and survives to tell the story? Well, it seems that's me. Oh, how I wished I had listened to that filthy, yet truthful, witch when she told me that I'm walking straight into the deepest pits of hell. _

It's hot. Not let's-go-to-the-beach hot, but rather lets-boil-an-egg-over-my-skin hot. If it wasn't for my wonderful, and extremely expensive, cooling system I'd have died by the time I reach the sign on which, with thick black letters, is written _**New Orleans**_. Now, finally nearing the house I bought, I look around the neighbourhood or at least what's supposed to be my new neighbourhood. As I observe my surrounding the only thing miles away, apart from my house, is either thick forests or abandoned wheat fields.

"Perfect. Solitude and quietness! " I'm beyond happy that the house and its adjacent lands turn out to be just what I expected when I bought it.

Truth to be told, more than anything I cherish my private space. It's a constant problem for me to stay around large crowds of people for more than a few hours. I get restless, irritated, anxious and most of all – angry. Personally I blame the tiny, brainless humans and their inexplicable urge to stick together in large herds like cattle. But my psychologist says that it's my claustrophobia kicking in. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother going to her as after my departure she remembers nothing and is left even more confused than me. I'm positive that in the end she'll need a psychologist herself.

With a sigh I adjust my sunglasses and open the door, mentally embracing myself for the heat. When I'm finally out of the car I discover that it's not as hot as I thought – well the temperature in my car is a few degrees lower but it's pretty much bearable. Nearing the double mahogany entrance door I once again look around – as wished, the lawn is perfectly mowed, the bushes are trimmed, and the trees are all in perfect shape, if a tree can be in any shape at all. Unlocking the door and pushing it open I find myself in a huge hallway, paved with marble tiles; the walls are in a nice and subtle beige colour and beautiful oil painting are hanging here and there, with golden frames in the Baroque style. As someone who lived during that time, I personally never liked all the wiggles and frippery of that era, but seeing these frames I find them quite nice and exotic. Upon entering the living room I'm welcomed by the scent of recently picked flowers. A smile pushes its way through and before I know it I'm beaming like a lighthouse. Dazzled, like a little kid in a toy store, I eagerly look around the house, spotting all the changes I requested. For starters the kitchen is almost fully renovated without looking patched to the rest of the edifice. The old wooden frames of the doors leading to all the balconies or the garden are changed with newer editions, which actually look exactly as the old ones, save for the annoying creaking sounds. Of course all changes are done according to my strict instructions – environmentally friendly and biodegradable for the materials, and an almost seamless merging from the old-style to the new one for the kitchen and the rooms upstairs. I know I'm quite old even without the furniture throwing it in my face every time I walk around my house! So after careful inspection I'm quite pleased with the result as whole. 'Time to unpack then!'

I spend the next half an hour arranging my things in the house and stocking the refrigerator. Being the nomad I am, my "luggage" consists of a medium suitcase with all my clothes, a special bag with the toiletries, my laptop bag and two sacs – one for little things or books that didn't fit in the other bags and the second – with different weapons and gadgets. After carefully placing them in strategic locations, I let myself explore my new surroundings. Following the unwritten traditions I go look around the fields, leaving the woods for after the sun sets. Because where is the fun when there's light to chase away the shadows and demons?

It didn't take as much time walking around as I guessed it would and before I know it I'm back at the house, in a need of a long bath. After all, nothing is better than the feeling of being squeaky clean. With that in mind I enter my new home and head for that magical place on the second floor when someone clears their throat. I swiftly turn around only to come face to face with a blonde female holding a crossbow pointed at my direction. I run towards her, grab the weapon from her hands and glare at the now chucking Rebekah.

"Friend or foe?" her velvet voice hisses friendly and I smirk while leaving the crossbow back to its place above the fireplace. For once there's a weapon in the house that doesn't belong to me.

"Friend or foe." I reply as a greeting to the Original sister, as she pours herself a drink.

"It's been centuries, Angelique. Where have you been hiding?" she frowns at me and I chuckle.

"Here and there." The reply leaves my mouth confidently.

"You've been avoiding me, haven't ya?" the accusation in her voice makes me look at her reprovingly.

"Of course not! You've always been a trustful comrade and a good friend." I try to talk as cogently as possible, knowing how insecure Rebekah really is.

Despite her appearance, her biting tongue and avid character, I know that this is all a mask, a well-played scenario. Deep down she is just a lonely, scared girl wanting nothing more than to love and be loved. And knowing what her family, mostly her brother Klaus, is like, I understand why she finds it necessary to keep all her borders in check even with me.

"As a matter of fact I had some things I needed to take care of here and there." I add, seeing that her mood is starting to get foul.

She just sits there, her legs crossed at the ankles, her hair flipped over her right shoulder and a glass of whiskey in her hand, and thinks over everything I said. Even though we've known each other for many centuries, went through hell and back, every once and again I catch her contemplating my words and actions. As if wondering whether or not she should trust me.

"I see the doubt in your eyes, Rebekah. Spill the beans – what's wrong?"

She just sighs and shakes her head, irritation and sorrow passing through her face almost unnoticeably. Almost.

"I do not wish to speak of my brother so soon after your long departure."

"So it's Klaus?" I cock and eyebrow her way, taking a sip of the golden liquid in my glass.

"Shit! It always slips!" Rebekah narrows her gorgeous sapphire orbs at me.

Laughing at her childish behaviour, yet truthful accusation, I go and sit next to her, patting playfully her back.

"Now, now. Share with your old buddy. What's that big brother of yours been up to these past decades?"

I take a few more sips of my whisky, trying not to shudder as I feel too damn dirty to sit in one place, yet I decide to show some patience.

"Oh, you know – the usual. Trying to ruin my life and all. Nothing new and spicy." The venom almost drips from her lips and for a second I wonder if Nicklaus has somehow managed to push all of Rebekah's wrong buttons at once.

"And you are still here because?" I ask as I take a sip of my whisky.

"He's my brother! And Elijah has wrapped his mind around the crazy idea that Nick can be redeemed, saved." Rolling her eyes dramatically, Rebekah stands up and leaves her now empty glass on the coffee table. "I'll leave you now, but I'll expect to see you at that party my obnoxious brother is throwing the upcoming Sunday."

"No fancy invitation? No let's-talk-until-we-drop whining? What's happened to you?" I exclaim dramatically and duck as she throws the same glass at me.

"Mock me and I may as well chop your wings off." She hisses and tries to give the notorious Original glare, but the playful flames in her eyes give her away.

"Hah! I'd like to see you try, _sororem /sister; lat./_ " my voice is gentle and filled with warmth.

For a second a startled expression crosses her face but soon a smile curls her lips and she nods before vanishing.

I sigh and stare at my almost empty glass, contemplating whether or not I should skip the party, only to mess a little bit with chunky Becks. After a second of thinking I gulp the rest of the hot liquid and leave the glass on the table, deciding it's time I finally take a shower.

The man who came up with the idea to pipe water deserves a noble price… if he still doesn't have one that is. After an hour of splashing and scrubbing I finally feel clean and ready to get out of the steamy cubicle. Only wrapped in a fluffy towel, I enter my new bedroom without bothering to turn on the lights. A flashing light on my bed indicates that my presence was looked for while I was having my squeaky-clean time. With a frown I fetch the phone and unlock it, wondering who on Earth would be texting me in two o'clock in the morning. Clicking on the little letter-like icon the screen turns into a letter, a familiar name written in the Sender box. Smirking, I sit on the edge of the bed and start reading the message:

_Dear Ms Silverleaf,_

_You are invited to this weekend's formal alliance-party, held by the eldest Mikaelson son – Elijah Mikaelson. It's highly recommended you bring your royal ass to the compound, aka the Abattoir, at around 10pm. The dress code is formal, so no leather pants! Your presence is required unquestionably! Dare ditch, bitch! We, the Mikaelsons, wish to hear from you soon and would be pleased if you honour us by attending our humble party. _

_Sincerely,_

_Rebekah Mikaelson,_

_Friend or Foe?_

_XO_

I almost laugh out loud after I finish reading Beck's profound letter. Truth to be told I'm flattered that she even wrote me an invitation, even if it's actually a SMS.

"Becks, you smarty-pants! You always knew how to juggle with words!"

Throwing the phone back on the bed I change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before dashing out of the door and into the cool Louisiana night. A little tour around _The Big Easy_ would do me good. After all I need to know the borders of my new hunting area. Dealing with witch hexes or werewolf bites can be a serious drag and a pain in my firm ass, so better make sure everything is somewhat settled. The vamps are easy to handle. Truth to be told – I doubt anything inhabiting New Orleans can be a worthy opponent for _moi_. Maybe not even an Original. 'What about _the_ Hybrid then?' I ask myself, walking down the crowded streets, passing by the cheerful and mostly drunk groups of teenagers.

By the time the sun rises I'm back in my house, well fed and in a pleasant mood after visiting all the 'key' places – the French Quarter, the Abattoir and the Bayou. The witches were a little bit off-handed and didn't pay me much attention, discarding me as a mere human; the soon-to-be home of the Mikaelsons was in a great shape, obviously being taken care of while they were away; and the Bayou was… well, a swamp with many edgy Lykens that weren't very hospitable. Not that I'm the least bit surprised – the last time they trusted a stranger they ended up cursed.

With a sigh I run for another quick shower and hit the covers. The sleep though doesn't come that easy. Turning and tossing in the new bed, my sleep-deprived mind fights the slumber that slowly but surely threatens to overwhelm me any moment. Eventually the last of my resistance collapses and I feel myself sinking into the vast void. The first rays of the sun seem to push me down even faster…

"_RUN!" she cries out while fighting off two of the werewolves._

"_Like hell!" I shout back, punching one square in the face._

"_Stupid girl! Listen to your sister!" a male voice hisses right next to me._

_Another pair of wolves jumps at me and I swing my sword, sliding it through their throats, knocking them down. Some blood spills over my face and I take a second to wipe it off. Suddenly sharp pain in my calf has me on my knees, howling in pain. A tearing sound comes from behind me and I shift to see the wolf that bit me sliced in half. I lift my dizzy head up but the face of my saviour is in the shadows. _

"_On your feet, Huntress!" he aloofly hisses._

_Sore and aching I try to stand up, but the more I push on my wounded limbs, the more pain courses through my whole body. Obviously irritated by my inability to fight he snarls and turns his back to me. Seeing him walk away I try to shout not to leave me behind, but as I open my mouth no words come out, only grinding sounds. Grasping my throat, I try to catch his attention in some other way but the mysterious male is gone._

"_On your feet, Huntress!" the woman from before yells and I turn to see my younger sister fighting off the enemy._

_Her smirk is still plastered over her small lips, not even an ounce of worry present on her pale, now splashed with blood, youthful face. She swings her sword, stabs, turns round, jumps away, retorts, attacks, all with the grace of a cat. She fight's with ease and I find myself tantalised. _

_Suddenly she falls to her knees and her hands drop her sword. Her head lulls for a second before a paw with long sharp claws rips it off from her shoulders. This time the scream rips from my chest like a siren call. The last thing I see before the world around me drowns in darkness and blood is my sister's lifeless and headless body sprawled only a hand away from me._

_Blood. Heart-piercing screams. Howls. Growls. Metal clashing with claws. Tearing of flesh. Hitting of rocks. Pain. Sorrow. Blackness._

_When I look around me, finally out of my trance, the ground is covered in corpses. So many dead bodies are littering the once flowery meadow that I find it hard to find where my sword flied to. _

_I'm empty. No emotions. No regrets. Only nothingness. And a single though that wracks my brain – 'Killer'. _

_An animalistic cry splits the heavy silence. The moon is bloody red. Now I see only red. A grim smile crooks the ends of my lips and I move through the field and into the forest – the hunt's not over yet. _

I wake up with a shout. Clasping my hand over my mouth and with dewy-eyes I look around, desperately trying to find my sister. A second later I realise where I am.

"A dream," I pant, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the blankets, "Just a bad dream…"

With a thud I fall back down in bed, barely glimpsing at the clock on the nightstand – 7 am. Grunting I turn around and wrap myself with the blanket.

An hour or so later I finally slip out of bed, the leftovers of the nightmare still lingering in the air around me. With a grunt I drag myself to the bathroom and let the cold water engulf me in a soothing embrace. It washes all the sweat from my body alongside the last parts of the dream.

Feeling clean and ready to face the new day I change into comfortable clothes, grab my car keys and leave the house, charging to New Orleans. The drive there takes no more than ten minutes but I know that the shopping spree that follows will take me a few hours. After all in my sac there is no such thing as 'party dress' or anything remotely suitable for a party with the Mikaelsons.

Five hours. Five fucking hours wasted in shopping. Of course it's all Rebekah's fault. At first we looked for a dress. Then, after an hour or so, we found the perfect piece of clothing and Miss Shopaholic enlightened me that now shoes and accessories are needed. Another hour or so. Then there was coffee break. And snacks break. Oh, and let's not forget the part where her brother called and told her to go find a witch and deliver a message. What is she? A carrier pigeon? Usually I'm a care-free person and if Rebekah likes the way her family treats her I'll be fine with it, but seriously? Calling her and ordering her to go search for someone, a witch none the less, and not taking a 'no' for an answer? By the end of our little adventure I was so riled up I contemplated whether or not to go and talk to the younger Mikaelson. Rebekah, being the mediator in the family and obviously outside of it, talked me out of it. Eventually.

"God I barely feel me feet!" I whine as I throw my bags on the sofa and pour some wine in a glass.

Finally home, with the sun about to set and a hunger rising deep in me I find the long trek that I was made to endure, the worst shopping trip in the world. And for what? A pair of heels, a dress that's more like two pieces of fabric sued together and a silver necklace with two earrings.

Massaging my temples for a minute or so I try to talk myself into not calling Rebekah and telling her that if she wants me to go to that party she'll need to drag me out of the door with a crane. An unladylike grunt slips by my lips and I suffocate the next one by taking a nice big gulp of my whisky.

"By the end of the summer I'll need to go to rehab for alcoholism!" I mutter under my breath and drink the rest of the liquid in a single gulp.

Leaving the glass back on the counter with a loud thud I go to my room for a long shower and probably some sleep. Yet when I finally reach my destination, the bathtub, I realise that today is indeed Friday. And so tomorrow is the alliance-party thing. Moreover tonight I'm invited to a business-gathering which, unfortunately, I cannot ditch from. 'So many years spend walking this earth and still I fail at organising my time and memorising all the events I'm expected to be present at.' A groan echoes through the empty house before I dive underwater. A few silent and peaceful seconds engulfed into the warm embrace of the water. And then the loud and irritating beeping sound of my alarm splits like a scream the quietness only to remind me that my presence is required once again by someone somewhere far away from my bathtub. So I collect all the leftovers of my strength and get out of the water while mentally reminding myself to go for some snacks on the way back. Something fresh. And tasty.

The next morning I wake up with the feeling that someone is watching me. At first I try to ignore the imposter but the nagging feeling deep in me tells me that now is not the best time to play dead and hide under the blankets. So cracking open one eye I glance around the too light room only to find dearest Rebekah sitting in one of my chairs and staring at me pointedly. With a groan I pull my sore arm from underneath me and reach for the bedside cabinet, on top of which my phone rests. After a few unsuccessful tries I finally manage to get a hold of the little slippery devil and pull it close to my face so that my halfway opened eye could see the digits. At me, arrogantly and mockingly, the 13:26 is dazzling like it laughs at me for sleeping in. 'Motherfucker!' I hiss mentally and fling the mobile phone back on the cabinet. Or at least I try. The little thing only hits the edge and falls down on the floor with a thud. I groan and roll over, hiding myself under the blanket.

"C'mon sleepy-head! The sun's going to set by the time you bring your ass out of that bed." the blonde's slightly southern accent irritates my hearing and blindly griping something from the other nightstand I throw it back at her.

She most probably catches is easily, if it even flew her way that is, and laughs at my weak attempt to shoo her away.

"Today is cancelled!" I groan.

"Wake up. And quit whining! Stuff need to be done today!" and she claps her hands before grabbing my blanket and pulling it away.

"It's YOUR alliance party thing. Why do I need to get involved in any of this?" I scratch my head and yawn.

"I need your help. Hayley is too pregnant to help with the heavier stuff. So chop-chop!" and another set of claps.

I glare her way, but she fails to see. So, admitting defeat, I stand up and drag myself to the bathroom.

After the wild fiasco, Rebekah finally decides that everything is in place she shoos me away, for a second time if I may add, telling me to go change and wash and do it hastily. On more than one occasion I wanted to plug her one in the earhole, but eventually I sucked it up and let her lead the parade. Now I feel mentally exhausted. Rebekah may be my closest and longest friend, but there are times I wish I could strangle her. As she ordered I take a quick and refreshing shower and start preparing for the party. The piece of clothing she calls a dress hangs in my wardrobe next to the leather pants and jeans and looks so out of place that I pull it out and toss it onto the bed. 'And more than an hour is up to be wasted for a party that'll probably last less.' I think before throwing some fancy underwear on. With the flat iron heating up, all the make-up in front of me and a dress close by I feel like a pig in a slaughter house. With a deep sigh I grab the mascara and start the hour and a half long preparation for Beck's party. After all nothing less than perfection won't be allowed to enter.

One word. Ridiculous. That's the way I feel when I exit my car after wasting more than 10 minutes trying to find a free space. Irritated by the lack of organisation in this part of the Mansion, I mentally tell myself to play around with Miss Perfection about the lack of place to park. I sly smirk slips on my lips and I shake my head, the long straight auburn locks swiftly following the movement. My steps are equal and rather slow, but I believe it's due to the fact that I can hear the music blasting from over here and I dare not even imagine what's inside. Truth to be told, I never was the 'party animal' type of person but rather preferred the quietness and solitude of an empty house and a nice book. As I near the entrance, a nervous tick that appeared earlier this night kicks in – discreetly grabbing the end on my so called dress and pulling it down so that I can at least keep my jewels hidden. A small group of youngsters, vampires I presume, is chatting near the entrance, but when they notice my approach a sudden silence settles, their glances obvious and filled with primal desire. 'Don't ruin your mood from the beginning! Let them stare – I doubt it they have ever seen an ass like this!' my inner voice, worldly-wise as always, whispers and I decide to keep it cool. For now at least.

Upon entering I'm facing the back garden of the Abattoir, where this night's party will be held while the leaders of the different communities discuss the future dividing of the territory of New Orleans. I'd give a pile of gold only to watch the show from the first rows. Unfortunately, knowing a few things for the resent dealings in the family from Rebekah, I'm aware that only the oldest Mikaelson will be present. With a pang of disappointment I enter further into the circle that the high walls form. The garden in nowhere near big enough to house a party, but with a bit of redecorating, some platforms built on-spot and some spotlight here and there, the place looks like one hell of a club.

All the faces are unfamiliar. Everywhere I turn, I spot a werewolf, a witch or a vampire and here and there are only a handful of humans present. Not an Original in sight. And while I try not to look like a lost puppy sniffing for his master I can feel some real puppies sniffing at me. With the corner of my eye and pretty much with my back to them, I notice a movement in the werewolves' rows. Some, probably the youngsters, are checking me out, but their older brothers look at me with doubt and intensity. 'If their old enough they'll know the tales. And if they are even smarter, will stay as far away from me as possible!' I hiss mentally and once again look around.

"May I help you? You seem…" a modest yet domineering voice asks behind me and I swiftly turn around.

Only to come face to face with no one but the famous Mikaelson son. Elijah.

"Lost is the word you seek, I presume?" I smile his way politely.

Relying on his younger sister's words, I try my best not to act like a bitch, which may or may not kill you in an eye blink.

"I'm sorry, but I don't seem to know you, miss…"

"Silverleaf. Angelique Silverleaf." I offer and extend my hand.

He takes it gently, as if I'm made of the finest porcelain, and plants a small kiss on the back of it. I'm startled yet I regain my ground fast enough to smile.

"I'm a friend of Rebekah's." I add before pulling my hand away.

"Ah," He seems to remember, "She mentioned something about a close friend coming over. You must excuse me, but I failed to pay attention to her. Just as the waiters failed to offer you a drink." With the last said he grabs a glass of champagne from a tray carried by a waiter who passes by in that very moment, and offers it to me.

I can't contain the smirk that appears on my lips. 'A real gentleman.'

"I see that your soubriquet is not something that I need to doubt, Mr Mikaelson." Our glasses carefully touch, the low ringing sound swallowed by the music the second it appeared, and I take a little sip.

"I thought you hated champagne!" I whining voice, filed both with mock and friendly challenge, comes from behind Elijah and he turns around, only to come face in face with Rebekah in all her shining glory.

"It's impolite to deny your host's generous offer of a drink." I throw back and narrow my eyes. "Just as much as inviting a friend and not greeting her on the entrance."

Taken aback by my words, the blonde vampire looks away, falsely inspecting the surrounding.

"They're gonna be at each other's throat by the end of the evening, Elijah." The casual toss makes her brother flinch.

A wrinkle forms on his forehead for a moment, the only indicator that his sister's words reached him and hit the right spot, but soon it vanishes and his former cool air returns, strictness and a little bit of stillness in a perfect mixture of polite neutralism around him.

Suddenly his head tilts slightly to the right and from above his shoulders I glimpse at Hayley in her black dress coming down the stairs. Returning my eyes to Elijah I see a light frown on his face. Catching me staring, he pushes away all of his emotions and feelings. A polite smile cracks his stiff face and with a light bow he excuses himself and leaves.

Using her brother's absence Rebekah comes closer and whispers conspiratorially, nodding towards my full champagne glass.

"If you want something stronger I know where to find it!"

Ten minutes and a lot of irritating and falsely-polite encounters later we are finally in the house, in what seems like a living room. The space is huge and while the bigger part obviously plays its part, a smaller room seems to be used for another purpose. After pouring myself a generous amount of whisky I decide to peek in the mysterious section. Unlike me, Rebekah walks in like it's her place and starts looking at all the brushes, paints, empty canvases and only throws a sideway glance at the oil-paintings arranged on the wall.

"What's the deal here?" I ask as curiosity gets the best of me and just like little Miss Sunshine I start looking around.

"It's Klaus's stuff. He's a drawing junkie. No way you can make him stop once he gets his… hmm… inspiration?" She shakes her head like that's some kind of a sin. "He spends most of his time in this room. I don't know how that helps him though."

Shrugging and obviously already bored she returns to the living room and plots herself in one of the couches. I follow her curved body with my eyes and then return my attention back to the painting in front of me. Some places are still untouched and I'm almost tempted to grab a brush and add a few blobs of paint. 'Like hell! It's Nicklaus we are talking about here! Touch that painting and the quarrel will reach the heavens!'

Suddenly a shiver runs down my spine and I feel a pair of eyes of my back. Turning swiftly around I find the younger Mikaelson brother casually leaning on the frame of the door, his piercing blue eyes throwing daggers my way. Frowning I move away from the paintings, my heels chattering on the wooden floor.

"And who are you?" his accent is definitely British.

'If you were anything but a werewolf my panties would have hit the floor by now!' I mentally hiss his way.

"A friend of your sister's." I answer as another shiver runs through me.

While his calculating gaze looks me up and down I try to contain myself from snapping at him. 'So many years spend walking this damn Earth and you still can't put a plug on your emotions! A shame!' His smug smirk brings me out of my thoughts and this time I glare his way. That tightening feeling in my stomach, the knots tying and untying, has me on the edge of my seat; my hands itch to grab a sharp object and drive it through his chest, making his dead fast. Yet the little whistle in my head blows just in time before I decide to stab him with his own brushes. After all he's not a mere werewolf. He's a hybrid. _The_ Hybrid actually, and basically driving a brush through his chest won't do much except enrage him. So with a deep breath and a lot of self-control I walk past him without sparing his form another glance.

"Leaving so soon?" the victorious note in his voice makes me clench my hands into fists, but my steps don't halt.

"Asshole." I hiss, knowing perfectly well that he can hear me.

A low, vibrant chuckle follows the chatter of my heels as I return to the so-called party, trying to keep my vigorous hate to myself and the blood-thirsty impulses under control.

"Be so kind and leave us." I coldly shoo away a handsome stocky man, a werewolf, who's been hitting on her for some time.

Raising his bushy blonde eyebrow my way, for a moment I see him contemplating wheatear or not to ignore me. To show him that I'm totally serious and not in the mood a wave of anger washes over him and instinctively he coils away under my merciless gaze. With a barely noticeable nod towards Rebekah the dog leaves with his tail between his legs.

"What's wrong with you?" by the high-pitched notes in her voice I assume she's mad. So am I in that matter.

"I don't know. Does living me in a room with your brother ring a fucking bell!?" I hiss.

Gulping nervously, Rebekah looks around.

"Don't make a scene. Look I'm sorry. I thought that-" she starts apologising but I'm so riled up that interrupting her comes almost naturally.

"Do me a favour – when it comes to me and the dogs – don't think."

Turning on my heel I head to the exit with the clear intention of leaving. And I was going to be out of there if it weren't for the pair of cool male arms that somehow ended around my waist while crossing the dance floor.

"Wrong girl." I say and try to pull away but the man grabs me and spins me around.

Taken aback I trip on the heels, damn them, and literally fall into the intruder's awaiting arms.

"Now, babe! Don't be such a party-crusher! Dance! Chill! " he's words are swirled and it seems that the champagne has hit him hard.

Frowning I still my body and glare his way. He just laughs, his drunken mind obviously not functioning properly, and tries to pull me closer to him.

"Listen pal, if you don't get your filthy hands off of me I'm gonna chop them off."

My dreadful voice, even after it reached his hearing, didn't achieve the wished effect and he pulls me by the hips. This time I lost it.

Grabbing him by the collar of the shirt I lift him up in the air and fling him across the dance floor. Some of the guests manage to step away, others don't. Either way the man hits a table with drinks, crashing it. As if on command all werewolves start growling, there bodies tense and slightly bend; the vampires show their fangs and hiss; the witches and humans step away and decide to enjoy the show. The next few seconds pass in stillness. And then they charge at each other. I fail to catch who grabbed who but a loud shout makes everyone freeze. I look up from my place looming over the man I threw, and spot Hayley on the stairs. Following her gaze I see that Elijah has a werewolf with dark curly hair by the throat, pinned to one of the tables.

"C'mmon. Kill him. Then the werewolf will kill the vampire and before you know it everyone in here will be dead." A brief pause as she takes the last few steps. "No more blood needs to be shed! Wasn't this the point of this party? To get to know each other? To form some kind of peace?"

I sigh and shake my head. 'Heard that a few decades ago.' Stepping away from the man under I turn around and walk away. Hayley's words echo behind me as she has everyone tantalized. A sly smirk curls my lips. 'She has guts. It's a pity she's one of them. We could have been good friends.'

Later that night I'm lying in my bed and think through the latest events. At first I was sceptical about Elijah but now I find myself admiring him. After all he's a man of honour and dignity, who keeps his word and vows. Becks is Becks - I got used to her moodiness a long time ago. Hayley is a werewolf and that fact itself makes me despise her despite the bravery she showed tonight and her nice attitude earlier today. Furrowing my brows I stare at the ceiling. 'She's different. Probably I'll need to keep an eye on her.' And then Klaus. Edgy bastard with an ego bigger than him, brisk and ironic to the point where I want to hit him. A werewolf none the less! Only a half, yes, but still I despise him. Even overwhelmed by those thoughts I feel myself slowly and gradually drifting away.

Sleep comes soon after and is filled with the demons from the past, the same scenes repeating over and over again. Ad infinitum.


	2. The Healer

Ok, so this is the second chapter, yay ^^ ! I hope you like it. I apologize beforehand for any mistakes made! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and Angelique!

~Nikkitosa

* * *

The Healer

I wake up around noon the next day. Rested and in a better mood, I take a shower and fix myself a quick brunch. While waiting for my toast I swipe through my phone, only to come across a few missed calls from Rebekah, three messages, telling me to call her ASAP and a reminder that it's full moon in five days. With a sigh I dial the blonde's number and place the phone between my shoulder and ear, all the meanwhile grabbing the toast and spreading some jam over it. She picks up after the third ring.

"The hell are you!?" her screeching voice in my ear almost makes me drop my phone.

"Lower the volumes. I'm having a breakfast." I drawl as I finally take a sit.

"Where _did_ you go to last night!?" despite my plea, Rebekah keeps shouting my way and I growl.

"I left."

Silence follows and I use the break to take a sip from my hot coffee and a bite from my toast. Unfortunately, what came next made me spit the said things out almost immediately.

"Hayley is missing."

"WHAT!?"

"Who's yelling now?"

"Cut the crap! What do you mean Hayley's missing?" I wipe my mouth and take a sip of water, my appetite suddenly gone.

"She just vanished. Last night Elijah sent her off to bed and this morning when he went to look for her she was missing." the blonde's voice falls to a whisper and I stand on guard.

"Why are you telling me this? You, better than most, know how I feel towards werewolves."

A few silent seconds draw between us and I can almost feel Rebekah's contemplation whether to ask me or not.

"I need you to find her." she mumbles under her nose and I snort.

"Over a century long friendship and you still don't know how to ask a favour out of me, huh?" I roll my eyes and put the dishes into the dishwasher before heading to my room.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't make me beg ya!"

"Why? Will that violate your pride, Princess?" I mock and hear her hiss. "Any ideas where they may have taken her?"

"Do you think that if I knew I'd have called you?"

"Where have you checked?"

"All the obvious places. No one's seen or heard of her."

I exhale deeply and grit my teeth. I know what's coming next and I don't like it.

"Why should I help anyway?"

"Because you have a soft spot for kids, even the unborn ones."

"Low blow."

With that I hang up and quickly change into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before grabbing my car keys and exiting the house.

"It's going to be a long day." I tell myself as I fire the engine and drive off.

Despite the fact that I tried not to uptight all of my strength into finding the girl, I somehow did it. Locked in a cabin deep into the woods, gagged and chained to a pipe, with a scratch on her head, Hayley looks rather angry than scared. Without talking and wasting precious time I rush to her side and break the chains, the low ringing sound echoing in the quiet forest.

"We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

She just nods and I pull her up. With her now messy chocolate hair, swollen eyes and fierce look, the wolf in her is quite obvious as well as the mother trying to protect her still unborn child. Without knowing, somehow I managed to form a connection with Hayley, despite her nature; the previous day and the fact that somebody tried to hurt her and the baby makes me wanna spill blood. 'Gee, that hasn't been round for a while!' my self-irony is cut short by the sound of cracking branches.

"We have company." I whisper mostly to myself and push the pregnant woman behind me. "Stay behind me and whatever you do – do not growl or act like a werewolf."

"Why?" she hushes in confusion while looking around.

"Let's say I'm not fond of your kind. And you being behind my back is a pretty big challenge for me as it is. Don't make my instincts act on their own."

And like on cue the enemy, witches as it comes out, appears from behind the trees, chanting some kind of a spell. Halfway expecting to feel the pain, I'm left somewhat disappointed that it has no effect on me. 'Repellent to magic? That's new.' yet Hayley isn't, and her pained howls make me frown.

Falling to the ground and grasping her head for dear life, the little wolf seems to be in a great pain. 'Her physical pain will ricochet on the baby.' and that thought alone makes me pull the small, compact blades out of their places and throw them at the witches. Obviously not expecting any sort of defence, let alone an attack, the three women fail to stop the spinning blades that pierce right through their hearts.

"Kidnapping and attacking a pregnant woman. Bless your gods that I'm not in a bad mood." I mumble and scoff while picking up the brunette and carrying her to my car.

After seating her comfortably on the first seat and confirming that she is better and the baby is in no grave danger, I fire the engine and drive back to New Orleans. The ride is silent and I like it that way – questions of how I found her and why I went searching for her in the first place will irritate me and the poor thing has had enough short-tempered females for one day.

"Why do you hate werewolves?" the sudden question startles me and for a second I consider not answering it. 'If I plan on staying, sooner or later it will come to this.' I tell myself.

"I had… a bad encounter with them a long time ago. Ever since, I've had loathed the Lykens."

"What kind of a bad encounter?"

Looking at her with the corner of my eyes I grit my teeth. Obviously realising her mistake, Hayley quickly tries to make things right.

"Sorry. I should not have asked. It's none of my business any way. Forget I even mentioned it."

The wind howls around us and blows the hair away from my face. The memories of that day start flashing in front of my eyes and I grip the wheel tighter.

"A pack of werewolves killed my sister and my daughter." the whisper leaves my lips fast.

No more questions are asked for the rest of the journey.

I stop my car in front of the Mikaelson house and get out. Hayley follows close behind after politely declining my offer to help her. Walking almost next to one another I wonder if there's even someone in the house. Unfortunately, there is.

"Hayley!" all the three of the siblings exclaim in unison after we enter.

A long line of questions follows and I use that free time to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 'God, I hate witches!'

"How did you find her?" Elijah's amazed voice brings me back to the present and I raise my eyebrow at him, yet stay silent.

"Indeed, how did you manage to find her? And so fast?" Nicklaus decides to take matters into his own hands, his words dripping with sarcasm and distrust.

"I have my ways." I calmly state and take another sip of my booze.

"That's not an answer." he states back and narrows his radiant blue eyes at me.

"I don't own you an answer." somehow my calm façade still manages to hold up pretty well.

"Nick, leave her. Hayley's safe – that's all that matters." Rebekah interferes and I scoff. 'All that matters, my ass.'

"Oh, come on, Rebekah! Don't tell me you'll just bloody let her do whatever she wants!" the Hybrid points his finger at me accusingly and this time I growl threating at him.

"Watch your mouth." I grit.

"Ha! Or what?" mocking me is never a good idea, and the youngest brother is about to find out why.

"Nick!" Rebekah's high-pitched voice holds a mixture of worry and warning, yet he doesn't seem be concerned.

In an eye blink the Hybrid is looming over me, his sparkly eyes examining me, mocking me. It's either the claustrophobic feeling that makes me act or the fact that's he's partially a Lyken I do not know, but before he can even touch me, my foot collides with his stomach and sends him flying across the room and right into the wall.

"Angelique!" Rebekah's plea is left unheard as I get up and walk to the fallen male.

He picks himself up, a sinister smile playing on his lips as he wipes the blood from his bitten lip. Before even making the slightest of move I pull my twin daggers from under my shirt and place one at his throat and one over his heart. A low burning sound is heard and the male hisses painfully as the blades, made of silver mixed with wolfsbane and vervain, touches his skin.

"Just give me a fucking reason to slice you down layer by layer, _Hybrid_!" I grit in his face and push the blades deeper into his skin.

"That's enough!" Elijah's voice bellows, silencing his younger brother's next words. "You have, indeed, proven your point and loyalty, Angelique. And my brother is a pain in the ass, that's a fact, but you cannot kill him, and you know that." his now pleading and reasonable voice makes me realise that, yes, as good as my blades are, they are useless against Klaus.

Stepping away and retrieving the weapons, I don't let the man out of my sight. He's dangerous when he's angry, and I'm sure right now he's a lot more than that.

"Nicklaus, apologise." the command in the eldest sibling's voice is evident and I barely contain a scoff.

The said man, on the other side, doesn't see fit to contain his.

"Like hell! _She_ was about to stab _me_ and you tell me to apologise?" he's getting furious by the second and all the bells in my head start ringing warningly.

"You provoked her!" this time it's Hayley's voice that splits the tense silence. "She found me, when none of you could, saved me even though she had no reason to do so and brought me back here, unharmed! And what did you all do? Didn't say even a single 'thank you', goddammit! And you, Klaus, you even dared question her like _she_ was the bad one here!" the young wolf is now screaming at them and I just can't help but feel the slightest sparks of admiration towards her.

No one says a thing and I shake my head.

"Watch your back, Hayley." I say and leave the house.

'Damn Mikaelsons! Ungrateful bunch of bastards!' roaring mentally I drive away.

A few days pass before Rebekah's ID lights up the screen of my phone. At first I let the phone ring, not paying attention to the unstoppable beeping tone. Yet when after three minute it's still not stopping I pick up and hiss:

"What!?"

"Angelique? It's me – Hayley." her voice is a low whisper.

"Hayley? Why… Never mind, I don't want to know how you came in possession of her phone. What's up?"

"I don't know how to put this…"

"Straightforward, if you don't mind." I helpfully state.

"I know you won't like it but I… _we_ need your help… again…"

There's a brief pause in which I can almost feel the young woman's hesitation oozing through the phone.

"Try me."

"Klaus's sick." is all she says, letting me digest the information.

"Sick? As in down with the flu?"

"More like the witchy variation of the flu, but yeah, something like that, I guess."

"And you look for my help, because…?"

"Well… they don't actually know I'm asking you for help-"

"You act behind the Mikaelsons' back? That never ends well, you know." I interrupt her.

"I'm aware, but his pride is bigger than his sense for self-preservation. Klaus told them not to call you under any circumstances. But he's not fine…"

"You know how I feel towards werewolves. And I despise Klaus _even_ more. What made you think I'd help him, rather than let him rot? I'd actually enjoy watch his agonising demise. "

Hayley's silence gives me the answer I need.

"You thought I'd do it out of good will, didn't 'cha?" the ridicule in my voice is obvious and I know it.

"No, of course not." her sudden change of tone stuns me. "No one does anything out of good will these days. But think of it this way – if you save his life now, he'll be in your debt. The whole family will be, for that matter."

"None of them have something I wish."

"Maybe not, but isn't the thought itself, that Nicklaus Mikaelson owns his life to you, a tempting reward?"

I stay silent for a few seconds, thinking over what she just said.

"You are one cunning little wolf, Hayley." I smirk and agree to come and try to help.

When I arrive at the Abattoir, Hayley greets me at the door. Alongside with Rebekah.

"I thought you said the family wasn't approving?" I look at the young wolf and she sighs.

"Yeah, well, Rebekah is-"

"Looking after my brother." A scornful smile curls her lips and she scoffs. "God, that sounded so wrong."

"You were never the one to take care of them, that's why. Usually it's the other way around." I state and walk to the door. "Where's sick little Nicklaus?"

"You sure you want to go in there? He's in a pretty bad shape."

"How bad exactly?"

While we go up the stairs, with Hayley leading the way and adding some information here and there, the girls tell me that, indeed, things are bad - high temperature, bleeding, wounds that don't want to heal, hallucinations, pain, etc. By the time their report finally comes to an end we are in front of Nick's room.

"I'll go in first and try to… prepare him." says Rebekah and quickly enters, leaving me and Hayley in the hall, waiting.

"What's in your bag?" asks the young wolf and nods towards the big leather bag I carry on my shoulder.

"Herbs, potions, various medical instruments and other stuff." I nonchalantly say while looking at one of the oil paintings on the wall.

"Were you some kind of a healer?"

"I used to be a Healer, but truth to be told – it turned out that I was better with the sword rather than the scalpel."

A comfortable silence settles in and we wait patiently for few more minutes before the door opens and two Mikaelsons come out.

"Why have you brought her here? Nicklaus warned us-" Elijah begins scolding, but Hayley has none of it.

"Because he is dying, Elijah, and she is the only one that will at least try to help him!" her voice is rising and so is her irritation.

"He probably won't even recognize me anyway." I mumble and nod towards the door. "May I?"

The eldest one nods and looks at both women disapprovingly before turning to me.

"If something goes wrong or you need anything…."

"Don't worry – I can take care of myself."

Down with the flu doesn't even begin to cover Nicklaus's current state of wellbeing. From afar he looks a little bit feverish, yes, but when I near him I notice all the veins peeking through his pale skin like little purple spider webs. With every step I take towards him, I notice something new – yellowish skin, wounds gaping wide with dark, contaminated blood oozing from them. Furthermore he seems to be only partially conscious; mostly unconscious by the look of his limp body, sprawled over the king-sized bed. My presence seems to only waken him, but apart from a groan, he doesn't even open his eyes. I frown and near him cautiously, put my bag on the bedside cabinet and pull out a pair of gloves, a thermometer and a stethoscope. I take a deep breath and exhale, trying to relax my tense muscles. Truth to be told, the last time I examined a sick person was a lotta' long time ago and I may have gotten a little bit rusty with the healing part. And on top of that it is Nicklaus who I'm supposed to heal – half the vampire population, if not more, will die with him if I fail. Shaking my head I proceed taking off his soaked T-shirt. Never being the patient type, after some fiddling around I eventually rip the fabric apart and throw it on the floor. In front of my eyes reveals a well-build chest covered in thin layer of sweat, some deep gashes covered with gauze and a nice tattoo that starts from what seems like his shoulder as a feather and gradually turns into a flock of birds. 'Cool tat.' I muse and smile. Unfortunately I'm a sucker for nice tats, and this one is a really good one. 'Focus, goddamit!' I scold myself and grab the stethoscope, warm up the metal part a little bit and put on the earplugs before placing it over his hot chest. I can tell even from afar that he's barely breathing, yet when I hear the wheezing and shallow breathes he takes into his lungs I frown. Despite those abnormalities, he has no problems with the respiratory system that is for sure.

It takes around 8 and a half minutes to take his temperature and check all the wounds, wash them with some peroxide and watch as they start bleeding again, the dark substance too thick to be normal. All this time the only reaction I get from Klaus is a casual groan here and there and some groaning. Apart from that he stays mostly unconscious to my greatest relief.

I turn my back to him to grab some of the bottles and ointments I bring along and figure out the things I'll need, mentally making a list of the herbs I'll probably send Rebekah find.

"Which witch did you piss off this time, Nicklaus?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.

"A bitchy one." a low and hoarse voice answers, making me jump.

Spinning around fast I find a pair of blue pools staring at me from halfway lidded lids. Taken aback from his sudden awakening I only blink a few times, not able to say a word.

"Any idea what she did to you?" I manage to regain my vocal abilities in time.

It takes a great deal of persuasion from my side to near him now, when he's awake, even in his poor state. Yet I manage to mentally talk myself into actually acting while he's conscious, even if he may not realise who I am.

"Hold still. I need to check your eyes." I state, my tone professional. "So? Any clue?"

He doesn't answer right away but at least lets me flash the light in his eyes. They are bloodshot, sheaves of little red veins form nets around his irises and the usually radiant blue is not pale grey, reminding me of a blind man's eyes.

"Gave me some bloody potion." he manages to rasp out before severe coughs take over, his face turning into a pained grimace.

I furrow my eyebrows and quickly help him by turning his frail and weak body to the side then, after the coughs finally stop, offer him a glass of water with some herbs in it. He takes a few sips and pushes it away.

"You'll dehydrate yourself. Drink it. All of it. It'll help." I calmly state and offer him the glass once again.

His hooded eyes, blurred from the poison he had been made to intake, still don't recognise me, yet I seem to offer some kind of trustingly aura and he nods after a few minutes, his glare changing from doubtful to thankful.

I stay by his side for a few more minutes, checking his wounds, treating them, bandaging them. Then hastily flip through a little notebook filled with various potions, poisons, antidotes and other stuff I gathered through my years as a Healer. With ease I find some remotely similar symptoms to his, and frown yet again. 'Blow me!'

Closing the notebook and leaving it back into my bag I stand up and head for the door with fast equal steps. Upon exiting I clash with someone's strong chest. Taking a step back I see that Elijah had been lingering around the door.

"Pardon me, I just wanted to make sure-"

"Forget that! Someone must go in there while I'm out. Every ten minutes give him some of the water in the cup and changes the bandages – I have left the ointments and the other stuff right next to the bed."

"Where are you going?"

I strode down the corridor, almost run actually, and upon reaching the top of the stairs I whisper:

"Going to kill a witch."

Before someone thinks of stopping me or talking me out of it I run down the staircase, out of the house and into my car then drive like crazy to the cemetery.

As I already told you, I used to be a Healer. What I didn't tell you is that I was the best Healer ever to live and as pompous as it may seem, this was the truth. I'll spare you the details for now around why I gave up and made myself vanish but will cut straight to the point – like everywhere else there are certain rules for Healers and the Sorcerers, aka witchy Healers. The most important one, the First Rule, applying for both the types of Healers, is never, under any conditions; involve the Underground Herbs (UH) in a treating process. For those of you who have no idea what's that I'll lay it out simple – extremely powerful herbs that only thrive in caves deep under us. Like all powerful things, these herbs can be both helpful and dangerous, depending on dosage. For the Healers of the Realm, those who had the right to heal, the usage of the UH was prohibited; breaking the rule led to severe punishments, mostly death. It used to be considered a taboo to use them due to the side effects and the fables about curses catching up with the ones who dared gather them. Eventually some were braver than most and taught themselves how to make potions that had various applications. And as always in human history, there are the ones who create a real masterpiece, the perfect potion that has no side effects and cures everything, and the one's that come up with the greatest poisons. The thing that Klaus had been given is a variation of that one great poison, that by some chance doesn't have an antidote. The creator seems to have been either a great Sorcerer or a real bouncer, because the only way for the poison to be cured is for the creator to die and his or her blood to be given to the sick one. Twisted, right? Imagine living in that world, where every second greedy Healer that hates you comes up with many creative ways for your death. Fabulous, no?

Not bothering to announce myself, I enter the crypt, in which the witches chant some spell. Upon my abrupt arrival they stop and turn around to give me some inappropriate looks. Ignoring them, I cross my hands over my chest and frown.

"Which of you poisoned Nicklaus Mikaelson? And I advise you not to lie in my face – I don't take bullshit lightly." I warn and my glare travels every single one of them.

"What makes you believe any of us has something to do with it? And who gave-" a young dark-haired girl with olive skin almost hisses my way but I stop her.

"I have no time for this shit. Aeternae Mortem." 'Eternal death' from Latin, the code name of the poison.

I grit the last part and some of the older witches visibly jump. "Exactly. So all of you get out and leave me with the one that did it."

Silently all of them leave the crypt, and while walking pass me some glare my way, others pass me by silently with bowed heads. Eventually the only ones left are a tall ginger-haired woman in white dress and me. For some time she just peeks at me from under her lashes while cleaning the ritual table from herbs and others from that kind.

"You know what you did is punishable by death, Genevieve." I sigh and shake my head.

"And who's gonna mourn him? That monster? That killer? I did all of us a favour, Angelique! And you know it!" she bites at me, her temper getting the better of her.

I look away from her, pity quickly taking root in my heart. 'Brought back from the death only to be molested by the ancestors. So much hate locked in such a frail body.' I think to myself before pushing away all those thoughts.

"We are not the ones to decide who lives and who dies, and you know that just as good as I do. You know what needs to be done, Gen. Those are the rules." I whisper and take a deep breath.

"Fuck the rules!" her sudden outburst makes me stand on guard. "Who's gonna judge me for killing that beast of a man? No one! _I_ saved us! He deserves to die!" her crazy ramblings go on and I realise that the moment she was resurrected, she had lost all of the former Genevieve's compassion and sanity. 'A mad woman. A blood-thirsty mad woman.'

"You know I'm not talking about the Hybrid! _You_ were never supposed to make that devilish poison and you know it! That is the thing you'll be judged for!" I state and narrow my eyes at her.

"And who's gonna kill me? Who's gonna carry out the sentence? Only the True Healer has that right. And you are not one for some time now!" she snarls at me, her face a grotesque mask.

"It's true I gave up my place in the society." I whisper and see the flames of victory burning in her green eyes. "But I never gave up my rank and it was never taken away from me either."

"Impossible." in mere seconds her face whitens and she backs away from me, her body shaking like a leaf. "They protect me! They won't let you kill me!"

Genevieve's sudden shouts and cries, her tears and howls make me realise just how bad she was played by her own people. Gritting my teeth at the cruelty and the thing I'm about to do I pull out a small cylinder from my pocket. By the sight of it the red-haired woman starts crying even louder, her pleas and begs mixed with curses and cusses. Flicking the cool texture, the relatively small cylinder turns into a huge bow with beautiful and ancient carvings all over it.

"Please! I b-beg of you! Show some mercy! P-pleassee!" she bawls, making me huff. 'Damn witches! The dead need to rest in peace!'

Pulling the string, an arrow forms from pure magic, its blazing energy spiralling around me, making me feel every inch of it and the bow.

"I'm sorry, Genevieve." I whisper and aim.

"PLEASE!" she cries out.

The arrow shoves right through her, leaving no visible wound or mark. The only sign that it hit its target is the hollowness of her green eyes. All the life has been sucked out of them, leaving a pair of glassy discs, doors to an empty shell. Acting quickly I retrieve the bow back into its previous form, tuck it into my belt and near the remainings of Genevieve. Placing the edge of my knife to her neck, a small red rivulet streaks down her porcelain skin. I manage to gather enough in a little test tube before purple veins suddenly appear, her skin turns grey and she literary turns into a pile of ash in front of me, dusting my shoes.

"And let your soul rest in peace with your ancestors." I whisper, step away and leave.

The drive back to the Abattoir takes no more than a few minutes, but the feeling clenching my stomach in a fierce grip makes me doubt my sense of time. By the time I park in front of the main entrance the sky is dark and big droplets start falling down at high speed.

Running up the staircase and into Nicklaus' room, I feel all my energy draining away. 'Using the Bow has its price.' I remind myself as I take a few more strides towards the bed where Elijah just finishes bandaging his younger brother's wounds.

"What has happened to you?" asks Rebekah that came out of nowhere, really.

"Nothing. Is he holding up?" I nod towards the motionless body.

"Barely." the low whisper comes from Hayley, who is sitting in a big armchair near the window.

"Ok. All of you out. I'll call you when I'm finished." I hastily tell them as I take off my jacket gently, trying not to shake it too much.

"We are not dogs and this is _our_ brother. You can't just kick us out!" Rebekah's disapproval, as always, finds the worst timing to show itself.

"Listen here, mate. _I_ am the one healing him. _I_ give all my energy in trying to stabilise him. _I_ killed a person so to cure _him_. And now _I_ need some space and privacy. So, yes, I'm in my rightful place to ask _you_ to get lost if you want to see him healed." I snarl at her, my tiredness getting the best of me. "Sorry… I'm running low on energy." I whisper and give her an apologetic look.

My blonde friend looks at me for a second or two, rolls her eyes, nods, and just then lets worry course through that pretty little face of hers.

"I'll do all in my power to heal him, I give you my word." I say and with that they are all gone.

Left alone with Nick, I feel my body suddenly getting warmer. 'The fuck? Am I getting sick?'I wonder as waves after waves of some strange emotion wash over me, making me feel… well, strange. 'I have no time to deal with this!' I scold myself and try to focus the remainings of my strength in healing him.

After grinding some herbs together and adding Genevieve's blood, I grab the knife and poke my ring finger, making a few droplets fall into the bowl. Mixing everything nicely I take a seat next to Klaus and pull his head in my lap. From this position I easily make him drink the whole content of the cup in which I put the potion. He coughs a few times, but apart from that, stays unconscious.

"And now we wait." I whisper and sigh.

_It's dark and quiet. The trees are old and have bend under the weight of the centuries and the merciless storms that rage in these places. A sudden crackle of wood rushes through the quietness, followed by the rustling of leafs. I intake sharply and my eyes shoot open. 'Lykens!' _

_Pulling my swords out of their cases and jumping to my feet, I manage to block the sharp claws that flew my way in the last second. The creature bares its teeth at me, saliva dripping down its canines, its eyes two shiny yellow discs. Pushing the mass of fur away I quickly turn my blades into an attacking state and charge. My strike is precise and deep gashes appear on a few places all over its body. The Lyken, obviously irritated, growls and tries to jump and sink its teeth into me but I manage to step aside and hit it in the ribs with the back of my sword. It howls in pain and falls to the ground with a loud thud. Wasting no time, I quickly raise my blades with the clear intention of stabbing it and give it a fast death._

"_NO!" cries out a female and my head snaps towards her._

_The girl, too young to be fertile, comes out of the bushes, panting, with tears in her eyes. _

"_P-please. D-don't." she tries to regain her breath while nearing me cautiously._

_My eyes watch her closely, yet not forgetting that there's a werewolf lying in my feet._

"_H-he is my b-brother, please." she begs now only two meters away._

_Not fazed by her words I once again raise my blade over the beast's head._

"_PLEASE! We need your help." she pleas and takes a few more steps towards me._

"_Stay back." I whisper, now glaring at the werewolf at my feet, its yellow eyes looking back at me._

"_P-please. We heard that you could help us, ou-" the girl whispers but I cut her short._

"_I help no Lykens!" the hiss is filled with venom and hatred and it rings is my ears for a few seconds._

_The wind blows a few leafs away and somewhere deeper in the woods, a frightened deer sprints away._

"_My baby sister-" she starts again._

"_I said I help neither Lykens, nor their friends!" I growl and the beast returns the growl, trying to rise._

_My blade pokes him in the spine and he retrieves to his previous position. _

"_At least hear me out!" the little girl shouts, tears streaming down her little face._

_I frown and glance at her with the corner of my eye. She quivers at first but stands her ground, her chin held high up and a fire in her eyes. The eye challenge continues for a minute before I scoff._

"_Be quick." I say, not moving the weapon away from the victim._

"_My baby sister is sick and no one can heal her. A Healer came to see her but said he could do nothing, cus' me have no money. Then I heard about you from an old nanny. She said you may help us. She s-said you help children."_

"_And you came to me with a werewolf?" I spit the words. _

"_I-"_

"_If this old nanny was so smart to tell ya 'bout me, didn't she mention my current obsession?" I hiss and look at the girl, now trembling a few meters away._

"_N-no.." she seems to be afraid of the change of tone._

"_Well, I make sure that every Lyken I come across has to turn every full moon no more." a low dreadful whisper fills the silence of the wood and I notice both the beast and the girl stiffening._

"_PLEASE!" she suddenly cries out and falls to her knees. "I beg of you! Spare him! Please!" her tiny voice squeaks and I narrow my eyes._

_With a fast and hard kick, the Lyken is sent flying towards the trees next to the girl where it hits the bark with a loud crashing sound. _

_I turn away and leave, not waiting to see if the blow killed it or not._

_I sneak into the little hut I saw the girl returning to earlier this day. It's barely a hut though – more like four shaky walls and a roof made of straw. After the little housewife leaves I enter, not actually knowing what I'm look for. A little moving bundle catches my attention and I cautiously near it. It's a baby girl, no more than a few months old, with big blobs all over her little face. I frown and try to look away, but somewhere deep in me I know it's wrong and cruel to leave her like this. Gritting my teeth in despair I look around, making sure I'm alone, before unwrapping the baby and examining its body quickly. 'Smallpox.' I conclude and frown. _

_It takes me around half an hour to make the needed cure and give it to the baby, write a small note for her bigger sister with instruction how to use the rest of the mixture, and bring some new swaddling clothes along with three new shirts and two pairs of pants. With big letters I write in the sandy grown BURN ALL THE OLD RAGS. Leaving as fast as I came, I never turn around or return. _

_The only time I didn't shed a Lyken's blood during my Dark period. _

I wake up with a jump, the feeling of someone's hand over my head bringing me out of my dream. Grasping the wrist of the intruder I twist it, making its owner fall to his knees and start hissing.

"Ow, ow, ow! That hurts! That hurts!" Hayley's muffled cries make me realise that I'm back in the present.

"Sorry." I mumble, let her go, and sit on the edge of the bed, sudden dizziness making me regret my choice.

"I totally deserved that!" she says, while sitting next to me, massaging her bruised wrist. "This is what I get for not minding my own business."

She smiles sheepishly at me and I smirk.

"Why did you stay and watch?" I whisper while looking her directly in the eyes.

She averts her gaze ashamed for a second but when our eyes meet I see worry in them

"I never meant to intrude. I just …. it just happened. I hadn't planned it or something."

I stay silent for some time before nodding and standing up.

"How long was I out?"

"Around day and a half. It's now around midnight." she replies and I nod.

"And Nicklaus?"

"Awake and better. He already managed to irritate Rebekah and have a quarrel with Elijah."

"Over?"

"Me." I raise my eyebrow at her and she sighs. "I told him that I called you and asked you to heal him."

"He wasn't pleased, I presume?"

"When was he pleased?"

"Fair enough."

"Now what?" she asks after a brief silence.

"I'll take a bath and leave. I hope you can find your way to the door?"

She only nods, obviously getting the hint, and starts to leave but stops a few steps away from the door.

"You know, what you did…. for the baby, the girl and the werewolf…. it's a thing almost no one will do even today, without the things you have passed through. It was noble. And commendable." she smiles and leaves, letting me think through her words.

A bitter smile appears on my face by the memory of all atrocities I did before and after that incident. Shaking my head and chasing away the past I look out of the window and let a more pleasant though linger in my mind before leaving the room as well, bringing along all my belongings. 'Is that old mineral spring still in the old part of the mansion?'


	3. The price you pay

Ok, Hello guys! I know - I took forever, and yes - I'm sorry. A few quick things before you read :

- I own nothing but Angelique and the plot

- There are legends around the end of the story - I made them up, so excuse the inaccuraties that you may find.

- I have absolutely no idea when the next chapter will come out, but one thing's for sure - you'll finally get something juicy ;)

Please - bear with me and my fickle muse 3 Feel free to tell me what you think!

~Nikkitosa

* * *

**_The price you pay_**

It turns out that yes, the spring is still there, and the water is pretty good – clean, warm, with steam filling the air, and old linen draperies here and there still hanging from the ceiling, giving the place that exotic note of the past. I near the huge spring, turned into an old version of a swimming pool. Pulling a medium-sized jar out of my leather bag, I place it on a little marble pedestal and fetch a lighter out of my pocket. Placing the lid to the side, the candle's wick appears and I lighten it, the nice smell of herbs and wildflowers filling the space. A small smile plays in the corner of my mouth as the steam absorbs the scent and makes it more subtle.

After lighting the torches that were there already alongside with some candles, I take off my clothes, undo the bandages around my forearms and enter the warm water. The feeling of instant relaxation washes over me in mere seconds and I find myself purring under the pleasant sensation. With my auburn hair pinned up on my head and out of my face, with only a few rebellious locks falling freely down my back, I let myself swim around for a while, enjoying the calmness and tranquillity that seem to be oozing from the walls.

After some time, in which I stretch my stiff muscles and swim around, I find a nice place near my candle where I stop, and unconsciously start stroking my forearms. On the right I have a tattoo of the old runes distinguishing me as one of the True Healers while on the left one there's the Mark of the Huntress, associating me with the House of the First, the Lyken hunters and huntresses. Separately both types of runes bring a lot of honour and pride to their owner, but having them at the same time… let's say that committing oneself to the two extremely opposite institutions back then was considered not only a taboo, but also a sign of either precocious dementia, also known as schizophrenia, or of great devotion. Unfortunately only few ever gave any though to the second option, making those who wanted both to heal and protect feel doubtful which path to choose. I was one on the rare few that had always admired the H&H (Healer & Huntress) and so when all the ones precious to me were killed and no one did a thing, I decided that I should take matters into my own hands and live the life I choose.

Now, so many centuries later, I still find that decision right for the time it had been made. I suffered many losses on both personal and professional level for that choice, but in the end I consider it worth it. The debt was paid and the hatchet was buried. Or at least hidden out of sight. 'But many had to die.'

"Wisdom comes with making difficult decisions and sticking to them no matter the consequences. " I remind myself, a sad smile gracing my face. "No matter the price."

My low whispers are quickly suffocated by the steamy fog, but I can still hear them ringing in my ears.

Out of nowhere the recent events around Klaus come forward, bringing along some troubling thoughts and questions. Like my regained healing powers that disappeared after I gave myself to the House of First. Because I couldn't be both at that time, all the 'healing' powers and tricks I could do, vanished. My knowledge was still there, though, so I never suffered a bad poisoning or an inflamed wound, I just had to make the remedy in the good old-fashioned way – by hand. Yet they were gone up until now. 'That potion wouldn't have worked if I was still under a cloud – my blood wouldn't have reacted to the other ingredients.'

'Ok, so my blood has regained its miraculous properties, but what about the spells? Am I now able to perform them?' Wondering in that direction will do me no good right now so I try to focus on something else. With my luck Klaus comes to my mind second. That strange feeling from before is still a mystery to me and hardly can I relate it to something I have felt before. The realisation itself that I no longer despise him makes me feel unsure and nervous. 'I understand the whole baby-issue I have and the reason why I cope with Hayley, but him?! On what devil's behalf am I not hating him in the guts?' I can't answer those questions, and that fact makes me feel agitated to the point where I wanna smash something against the wall.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" a male voice asks from behind one of the linen draperies.

That accent makes my skin prickle and become quite sensitive – a reaction that literally catches me off-guard. 'How am I supposed to deal with him, when my own body seems to be having a mind of its own?'

"What do you want, Nicklaus?" I ask, a little bit rudely, I admit.

"The last time I checked this was _my_ family home, so I should be the one asking you that question, don't you think?" his smug tone makes me roll my eyes.

"Don't bother, I'm leaving anyway." I reply and swim towards the stairs where I left a fluffy towel and my clothes.

"Why in such a hurry? I was hoping to have a chat with you?" by the way he said it, I know he did something, and tension pokes my nerves.

I don't need to go all the way to the stairs, because there's nothing there anymore. Rolling my eyes at the childish action I shake my head and try not to get mad.

"So taking my stuff and leaving me naked in the water is your idea of a conversation? How fitting." the sarcasm drips from my tongue.

"I quite like the view, really." his voice comes somewhere from my right side and I try to spot him.

'He stays out of reach and sight.' I notice and a smirk plays on my lips before I can stop it.

"Something amusing you?" he seems intrigued by my sudden change of moods and my smirk widens.

"Yes." I admit, stressing the 's'.

"Care to cooperate?"

"Your actions."

"How so?"

"You knew I was down here and that I was taking a bath, obviously not wanting to be bothered, yet you came. Furthermore you claim you want to speak, but you took my clothes away, not letting me get out of the water and have a proper conversation. You seem to not know what you want." I conclude and wait for his answer.

"I never said you must stay in the water. If you want a face-to-face conversation, please, feel free to do so."

'All this amuses him! Little twat!' I grumble to myself and cross my hands over my breasts.

"You are such a gentleman!" I ironically exclaim and roll my eyes.

"I never claimed I am, darling." he simply says, this time somewhere from the left.

"Ok. You wanted to talk – talk. I'm all ears." I suddenly say and tilt my head slightly to the side.

The silence spreads for some time and I raise my eyebrow.

"What? Thought I wouldn't want to speak? Or did you bite your tongue?"

He doesn't answer so I continue, ignoring the warning bells in my head telling me to shut the fuck up and figure out a way to get out of here without him seeing me.

"Or probably you are shy? Never seen a woman naked?" I keep on guessing, voicing random thoughts.

"I assure you, the last thing you can say about me is that I'm shy." I seem to have offended him. 'Good.'

"You were the one who took my clothes, so…"

"You are nothing special, darling."

The last remark hits its target and I intake sharply. Gritting my teeth, I too late realise that I have given myself up.

"Did I offend you?" his mocking little voice makes me wanna grab him by the throat and drown him in the water. "Don't worry. Not all women can be perfect." he keeps on bragging about how I seem to be missing a certain trait, how I am too muscular and on and on.

I take a deep breath and exhale. 'I don't have time for this bullshit!' But before I can show him just how pitiful he looks now, a low howl travels through the old tunnels leading here. My skin prickles and all the snarky remarks I have prepared disappear. Swimming towards the stairs as fast and soundless as I can, I don't fail to hear the distinguishing chatter of claws, soon followed by growls.

"Towel!" I hiss and in seconds the said garment is wrapped around me, Klaus' taller body hiding me from the intruders.

"What are you doing?" I whisper while tying a knot on the side, making sure it won't fall.

"You should get out of here. Hayley told me… about the whole wolf problem." he answers, a coy smirk tugging at his lips.

I frown and am about to tell him to mind his own business, but a loud and prominent howl interrupts me and my head snaps towards the furthest end of the underground cave. Large shadows move behind the linen draperies for a few seconds, before they charge our way, turning into shreds the centuries old fabric.

"It's time for you to leave." suddenly the playfulness and charisma in his tone disappear and he becomes serious and stern, his gaze focused on the creatures.

"Do you know who they are?" I ask.

"What? What does it matter?" he hisses at me.

"Just answer!"

"No. I have never seen them."

"And they are neither from Hayley's pack, nor yours?" I keep on pressing.

"No! Now go!"

Klaus turns his back to me and prepares to stop them, without even wondering why they are here. It's like his only thought is to get me out of here. 'To protect me.'

"I'm not leaving you alone against a whole pack of Lykens!" I state and stand next to him, my appearance getting me a few eager growls. 'So they _are_ here for me!'

"They'll rip you to shreds!" he exclaims.

"Like you care." I scoff and make sure the towel will stay put.

Running to my bag, hidden behind a column, I pull out my double blades and swing them in my arms. 'Like the good old days!' a pang of sadness hits me but I push it away. 'It's a matter of life and death!' I tell myself and stand up, peeking from behind my hiding place.

Only to be left bedazzled by the sight – Nicklaus Mikaelson, the man who wanted me dead from the moment he laid his eyes on me, is now fighting against the werewolves to save my skin and buy me some time. Only half changed his now Lyken eyes help him spot his opponents' moves and with his sharpened instincts and reflexes, block their attacks. He seems to be doing fine, until one of them sneaks behind his back.

"Behind you!" I shout and the blond turns, only to be hit in the chest and sent flying into the pool with a loud splash. "Klaus!"

Now out in the open and with him out of the way, the werewolves starts rounding me, trying to probably corner me. Scoffing at that tactic I roll my eyes and swirl my blades. They catch some of the candles' light and shine.

"You really don't want to piss me off." taking a step forward I let the walls around my Huntress side slide down, making the deadly aura swirl around me like an old blanket.

"I give you a simple choice – turn around and leave and tell whoever sent you that I'll find him and kill him, or stay and die like the dogs you are."

They seem to wonder for a whole minute before one of them, the biggest, probably the alpha, jumps at me with his jaws open and claws wide spread. I duck and swing my swords, leaving a deep gash from his shoulder down to his leg. With a pained howls and some whimpering, the creatures collapses down, the thudding sound echoing in the suddenly silent space. I smirk and with a clear blow cut its head off, while making an eye-contact with the second-in-charge in the pack.

"You know who I am. Better change your mind, or meet his fate."

The tension rises with every passing second and the wolves nervously move their shoulders, waiting for a command. Despite my hopes that at least this one has some brain and a feeling of self-preservation, I'm left disappointed as he barks and jumps at me, his pack following close behind.

In the next ten minutes I remember what it was like to hunt Lykens down and kill them, their dark blood streaming down my hands, splashed all over my face, and the blades in my hands singing their most favourite tune. The corpses in my feet are still warm by the time I rush to the water and notice its pinkish colour.

"Klaus…" I whisper and then shout his name.

It takes some walking around before I spot him underwater, probably unconscious. 'They had some kind of venom all over their claws and teeth.'

Jumping in the water after leaving my weapons near the edge, I swim towards him and dive. Picking his body around the waist and pulling it up, I manage to drag both of us towards the shallow waters. Pulling his larger and heavier body to the stairs turns out to be the easy part as now I have to figure out how to heal him. Nearing my head to his face I can hear his shallow breathing and take that as a good sign and quickly check his wound. His T-shirt is stuck to his chest so I rip it apart, only to reveal three huge gashes, each at least a centimetre deep.

"Shit!" I hiss under my breath and look around for any kind of remedy.

Unfortunately the content of my leather bag wasn't arranged for healing wounds, but rather curing poisons.

"Wake up, Klaus! Fight it!" I try to bring him round, not really expecting my tactic to work.

To my greatest amazement his eyelids flutter and crack open, revealing two breath-taking blue irises.

"W-what happened?" he growls and tries to stand up, but the pain sends him back against my chest, where he had been lying not a second ago.

"Easy. They almost tore you apart. Some sort of nasty poison prevents you from healing." I quickly explicate while looking everywhere but down at him.

"You seem to be fine." his voice is rasp and tis alerts me that things are getting worse.

"You are losing your strength. You need to feed or you will die." I state, clearly realising that I'm the only 'food' source here.

"I'll manage." he declaims and I scoff.

"_Now_ you decided to act like a grown-up? Unbelievable. Either feed or you'll die, Klaus. You don't have any other options." I manage to pull him higher, so now his head rests on my shoulder.

"I thought you hated werewolves?" he grows weaker by the second and the sudden questioning irritates me.

"I don't mind Hayley." I shoot back and look at the other side, baring my neck to him. "Now feed!"

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you hate all of us?"

I look at him for what seems like an eternity, calculating if I can just cut myself and shove my blood down his throat.

"If I tell you will you feed?"

He only nods, his still crystal-clear eyes looking at me expectantly.

"A pack of Lykens slaughtered my whole village. Alongside with my sister and my infant baby girl. They let me live so that I could remember what they did and warn the others not to mess with them. I guess it didn't turn out the way they expected." I whisper while spacing away, retuning to that horrific chapter of my life. "It was long ago, anyway." I add.

"You still have a lot of hatred in you." he is now panting, his blood literally dripping away into the water.

"The hatred vanished long time ago. Now I feel nothing. I'm empty." my voice is barely audible, and suddenly I feel bad for all the innocents I killed. "Most of them didn't deserve to die. I killed them for their fellow brothers' monstrous choices." I stop and blink a few times, not wanting to cry right now.

"You regret it?"

"Yes."

"Yet you still despise us?"

"I try to be more flexible." I say, a small smile now mirroring his own, appears on my face. "Now feed."

"I don't wanna test your flexibility."

Even on the verge of death he can joke around and try to be funny. 'To make me see that he's not like them – a savage, a monster. He's different. He's more.'

"I call it paying my debt." I say and nod. "Now bite, or God help me, I'm gonna force my blood down your throat!"

He smirks and lifts himself up. His hot breath fans over my neck and I feel my body stiffening, preparing for the pain coming with the bite.

"Have you been bitten before?" he whispers against my skin, his lips touching my neck in a very sensual manner.

"No." I simply reply and my heartbeat quickens, almost making me pant.

He doesn't say a thing and I just stand there, waiting. Then his tongue moves over the tender skin and before I know it, his fangs sink in, making me hiss. Yet the pain is gone in an instance and something new comes in its place. Pleasure. Arousal. Heat. My body trembles slightly from the sudden mixture and I close my eyes, letting myself feel.

He drinks my blood greedily and a part of me wants to push him away, in fear of drinking me dry, but a bigger part wants to pull him closer, wrap my legs around his torso, and keep him there.

"Klaus.." I want to warn him, but the word leaves my lips like a moan.

He seems to like that sound as a low growl vibrates in his chest, and his hands grab me by the elbows and pull me even closer.

"Klaus…" his name leaves my lips more warningly this time, or at least that's what I'd like to believe.

He pulls away so suddenly that a low whimper skips past my lips at the loss. For a few moments we just stand there, face-to-face, looking at each other, before I jump to my feet and exit the water. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time, yet I don't turn around.

"Let's get out of here." for once my voice seems to have lost that boldness it usually holds.

I hurry and hide behind a column where I can change back into my clothes without being troubled. Meanwhile Nicklaus walks around, picking up random stuff. Finally ready, I walk around my hiding place and find him carrying my leather bag over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't have." I calmly say as I try to take it from him.

He pulls away, giving me a coy smirk and nods towards the exit.

"Ladies first."

For a moment I look him doubtfully but eventually shake my head and leave, his body only an arm's length apart from mine.

I return home as fast as I can, knowing perfectly well that the more time I spend around Klaus, the less control I'll have over my body and its needs. Now, finally as far away as possible, I feel the control his presence has over me vanishing. 'And after Jack and I have some quality time together, I'll be as good as new!' with that I go into the kitchen and pull the bottle of whiskey from the fridge, grab a glass and lock myself into my room, where I fill the bath and enjoy the rest of the night, drinking myself into oblivion.

_The Court is spacious and the marble walls and floor give it the impression of a huge box. The chains around my wrists rattle when I try to move. I huff and look around from under my long messy hair. There are soldiers, both man and women, guarding each entrance and one near every column. Their armour is rather simple, consisting of a breastplate over a ring mail. _

"_Do you know why you are here?" a deep male voice bellows and I raise my head. He is nothing more than a blurred figure, faded out by time._

"_Yes." despite my poor state, my voice is confident._

_Someone grabs me harshly by the elbow and pushes my forward. The chains ring in the almost empty room._

"_So you are willing to pay the price?" this time it's a woman's voice and I look to the left._

_A beautiful creature in armour is leaning against one of the pillars, her short blonde hair pulled back with pins. I notice the sword hanging on her right hip. A true masterpiece, made by the strongest of metals. Everything but the blade and the hair in her is a blur as well._

"_Yes." _

_In a flash the point of the said blade pokes my throat and I barely manage to register what she's doing, before a long, shallow, but still precise cut appears. Blood drips down on the floor. _

_I stay silent and look the woman dead in the eyes, gritting my teeth. After some time she smirks and tilts her head to the side._

_A cold shiver runs down my spine and I can almost feel someone's hand on my shoulder. Cold lips touch my ear and a familiar voice whispers: _

"_Don't. Forgive them. Live. Please, sister…" the voice fades after no more than a second and I narrow my eyes._

"_I'll have her." the words are dripping with challenge. "Release her."_

_The chains fall on the ground with a loud ringing sound. _

"_I'll train you, teach you, and have you. Until you prove yourself worthy, you are my personal slave. Do you understand?"_

_I only nod. 'Revenge is worth it!' I tell myself as they lead me to another room, where I can wash and change my clothes. My sister's words and image follow me around, the disappointment and worry swaying in the air around me._

I wake up still in the tub by the sound of a shattering glass. Still dizzy and disorientated, I somehow manage to get out and wrap myself in a towel without colliding with something pointy and breaking my neck. Grabbing my robe from the hanger on the wall I quickly change into in and rush down the stairs, my blades in my hands.

"Shit!" someone hisses and I stop near the living room.

Peeking from behind the wall I notice a dark-haired figure kneeling on the ground, collecting the broken glass.

"Hayley?" I ask and her head snaps my way.

Indeed, the young wolf is the one who broke into my home. Lowering my weapons I near her and tilt my head to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

She keeps on picking up the pieces, not answering me. For a second the thought of using brutal force and kicking her out passes through my mind but I brush it away, blaming my awful hangover and the many dreams, mainly flashbacks that seem to be popping out quite often now.

"What happened this time?" I try again as I kneel next to her and collect the rest of the broken pieces.

She shakes her head and an unexpected tear streams down her cheek. Before I realise it, I gently brush it away and lift her chin. 'Gentle soul.' the words ring in my ear, but it's not my voice that I hear.

"Hey. Whatever they did this time, it so not worth your tears."

"They'll come looking from me. I ran away." she whispers and tries to hide her face. "I have nowhere to go."

I give her a sympathetic smile and nod.

"You can crash in here. On one condition, though."

"What?"

"Tell me what happened."

With a nod she stands up and goes into the kitchen, returning with another glass of water in hand. I'm comfortably seated in one of the leather armchairs and with a nod towards the couch I invite her nearer, trying my best to keep my foul mood hidden.

After no more than half an hour I don't know whether to be pissed out of my mind, or laugh. It turns out that after my hurried departure, Klaus realised that his orders have been disobeyed by his family. That led to a series of yelling and fighting, and regardless of Elijah making sure that Hayley stays unharmed and out of this, Klaus eventually got to her. She assured me that he hadn't hurt her, but her bruised upper arm spoke otherwise. Either way she got upset and went to her room where she fell asleep, not bothered by none of the Mikaelsons'. Until the morning when she snuck out and heard them talking about locking her in the house, with no access to the outer world. She ran, of course, and after divagating for some time, came upon my humble home.

"What are you going to do now?" despite the badly masked fear in her voice, her posture and eyes are calm and confident.

The silence, now prolonging more than necessary, makes her anxious, which results and a napkin ending in shreds all over my coffee table.

"First I'll make myself one strong, boiling hot coffee, drink an aspirin and change into something more…" I look at my silk robe "… more presentable. While I do so, feel free to have something to eat and rest for a little bit."

With that said I leave her to her thoughts, giving her some privacy and time to relax. And some time for me to make sure I'm in check. Throwing some jeans and a T-shirt on after noticing that the weather outside seems to be getting bad, I return to the kitchen and turn on the coffee maker. While waiting for it, I open the fridge and grab the Greek yogurt that has been left only halfway eaten, and push the door closed with my foot. By the time I have a bowl filled with chopped fruit and yogurt, my coffee is ready and so is the glass of water with aspirin next to it. Grabbing the first-aid kit on the go, I walk into the living room where Hayley is silently munching over a bowl of cereal with some milk.

"You are welcome in my home, Hayley, as long as you wish." I tell her while bandaging her bruised arm. There's no wound, just the irritated skin, yet I rub some oils that will help soothe the discomfort faster.

After that we eat in silence before I excuse myself, telling her that I have some work in the basement I need to take care of, but she's free to roam around the house and call me if she needs something.

Halfway out of the room, her voice catches up with me.

"What made you change it?"

I stop and turn towards her, eyebrow raised.

"Change what?"

"Your opinion towards werewolves." she clarifies.

I smirk and continue walking.

"It didn't change. This is me being flexible as fuck." I whisper the last part and return back to my room where I grab my leather bag and head to the basement, trying to figure out how to keep the baby and the mother out of trouble for the next 24 hours. 'Worst timing ever.'

Everything comes with a price. Every supernatural power you obtain has certain retaliation over the user.

Being one of the True Healers means that alongside the great knowledge and the ability to cure almost everything, your energy supply is rather small. Every time a medicine is created or a person is healed, some of the energy gets locked into it, meaning that the perpetrator is left with only enough to stay alive. The solution we came up with was to carry small ampoules with us that contain certain herbs that can boost us up for some time. It was a great idea, until the side effects appeared and we were left empty handed _and_ weaker at the same time.

When I joined the House of the First, I knew that they will make me give up my Healer status, which I quite fancied and was proud of at that time, despite its cons. When I finished my training and was made to go through the locking process, I refused, stating that I wanted to be both. It wasn't easy convincing the council that I wouldn't give up any of my statuses and will bare all the consequences coming along with them without voicing it. Eventually they gave up and let me do whatever I wanted. And I did it – I became both. It took a lot of training and devotion, lots of sleepless nights and painful mornings, but I managed. Because being a Huntress, killing Lykens and other sups if necessary, has its big fat price tailing along.

It's a well-known fact that the werewolves change on every full moon against their will, which makes the process quite painful and tortuous. Us - killing them means that were are depriving the nature of one of its best killers, creating an imbalance. So in order to make sure the said balance could be maintained, the ones who kill the children of the Great She-wolf /according to an old legend the spirit of the Mother Nature took a physical form of a she-wolf and mated with a human during a full moon, when she had turned human as well. After 60 days, again full moon, she gave birth to four babies – three boys and a girl, before vanishing forever. It's believed that out of these four children, only one reached virility – the girl, Selena, the Great She-wolf. From her, the line of werewolves began/ should suffer the punishment, brought upon them by their own creator. Yet, instead of full moon, the Hunters suffer the painful crossing whenever the moon turns red. A story tells that upon seeing her children getting slaughtered, Selena cut open her chest and cursed all the Hunters to experience her and her kids pain ten times worse, until the soil baths in their blood, just like hers irrigated it then. Mother Nature saw what happened and mourned the death of her last child deeply, which resulted in a terrible storm. It's also said that to preserve her daughter's curse from fading and her sacrifice – from being forgotten, she locked her soul into the moon, which she was named after. And whenever the time for paying the debt comes, the moon turns crimson red, sentencing the entire House of the First to a night full of terror and pain. Because we are no werewolves and cannot change the pain lasts the whole night.

Over the centuries this punishment turned into a mean of testing the Hunter's mentality and seeing if he or she is worthy to wear the Mark. Many died during those nights, taking their own life away, just to make the pain stop. For those of us who managed to survive the Red Moon, we were given all the privileges of being a Hunter – the strength, the heightened senses, the speed and the immortality.

It's our duty to forever protect the innocents and kill the beats. Our only task is to stop the same creatures, whose curse weighs upon us. Oh, the irony and its many faces.


	4. Bath me in red

**_Hey! So short notice(s): a)I own nothing but the plot. b) there's still no juicy stuff, sorry I know I promised, but things turned out differently! c) the next one, I hope, will carry out the promise d) R&R, people! I love reading what you think! ^_^ Now, enjoy!_**

**_~ Nikkitosa_**

* * *

_Bath me in Red_

An old spiral staircase leads down to the underground parts of the house, a.k.a. the basement, which is separated in two by a thick brick wall. From the stairs you only see the part that is now a well-kept winery and even if you stride down the rows, look carefully at the wooden panels that cover the otherwise stony walls, you won't find the door hidden there. Concealed behind a barrel, with no difference in the beams, my secret passage is basically impossible to see with a naked eye. And what lies behind that door is something that the naked eye should better not see.

The room on the other side is all stone - walls, floor, ceiling. In the centre of it is a cage, which bars are driven deep down; they are thicker than a human's arm and are said to be unbreakable and unbendable. Now, as I calmly walk in and close the door behind me, the especially built-in lamps cast strange shadows and I see that I have proven one of them wrong – the bars _are_ bendable, they just need the right amount of strength to do it.

Even now, after more than three centuries of being a Huntress and experiencing the curse on my own back, knowing perfectly well the amount of pain that tries to crush your will and make you spill blood, a shiver runs down my spine by the thought of the power harnessed to make those iron bars turn into a grotesque statue of art. Touching to cool surface with the tips of my fingers only brings many unpleasant memories and makes the warning bells in my head ring as loud as possible. 'Tonight.' I remind myself and open the cell's door, the huge padlock and the chains ringing mockingly. Inside of the cell there are two chains hanging loosely from the top and two lying on the ground. As I kneel to check if everything is in place, I see the long claw marks recessed into the floor, my fingers unconsciously following the trail. '_My_ clawing.' Like I already said we are made to experience the pain of the werewolves' turning but without the shifting part, so the marks are made by my own _human_ nails while I tried to fight off the urge to kill. 'And Hayley will be here tonight… It won't be safe… '

The next thirty minutes pass by in checking all the equipment for tonight and thinking over and over again how should I act. It seems that I only have two choices – either call Rebekah and tell her to come and pick Hayley up, kicking and screaming most probably, or make sure the little wolf stays hidden and locked in the furthest corner of the house. Both seem to lack any logic or rational thinking, yet I eventually decide on a third one – talk with her, warn her about the danger she is stepping into and let her decide. 'Like that's gonna turn out to be a surprise!?' a voice in my head scoffs and I shake my head. 'Huntress, shush! I don't need your wisdom right now!'

The chains are in place and all the locks are checked again before I leave my secret room and return to the winery. It is cosy in there, compared with the humidity and coolness of the air in the cell, and the constant lingering smell of the red liquid almost makes my head swirl in a nice, almost alluring, way. _Almost_. Striding down the rows and then dashing up the stairs, I close the door behind me, not paying any attention to what's happening around me. My only concern now is to find the little wolf and warn her about how life-threatening her stay here tonight may be.

"Does Rebekah know?"

"Yes."

Hayley only furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head, making her curly hair bounce on her small shoulders. 'She looks so fragile and small. And under this little façade hides a true she-wolf.' I muse and smirk.

"That's so screwed up!" she exclaims and narrows her eyes, staring out of the window, a dark shadow passing through her face for a second.

"What are you thinking?" I ask after taking a sip of my water, already feeling the first of the symptoms – dehydration.

"You won't like it anyway." she sighs and looks at her hands, clasped in her lap.

"Try me." I dare.

She stays silent, her gaze distant, and now I can see how vulnerable she suddenly looks.

"You are in a way like him. I don't know his worldly experience or anything, but in a way you remind me of him – dark, dangerous, full of pain and anger. Lonely, yet capable of great devotion and love. Cocky. A polar character." the last two are said with a teasing smile and I smirk.

"You forgot a badass, sassy and deadly." I add and we start laughing. "So I am like a female version of Klaus?"

Hayley tenses for a moment, the bare mentioning of his name making her smile grow cold and eventually disappear.

"You are nothing like him – he's a monster in disguise. He kills on a whim, does whatever he wants, not minding the consequences that come along. He's selfish and arrogant. He's- "

"The father of your child, Hayley. Don't forget that." I interrupt, trying not to sound like I'm condemning her.

"I know. Believe me, if I could, I'd go back in time and stop myself from falling for his charm."

"He's handsome." I suddenly blur out, looking at the crossbow above the fireplace.

Hayley stares at me with wide eyes, utter shock written all over her pale face.

"What?! Even I can't deny the obvious!" I defend myself.

"No, it's just… I though you hated him in the guts." her look is apologetic and I smile, hiding the already present pulsating pain in my chest.

"Like I said – I'm trying to be flexible."

Hayley's narrowed eyes and raised eyebrow show me that she saw right through my lie and she's not pleased.

"I just believe there's more to Klaus then he lets us see, that's all." I sigh and massage my temples. 'A headache! Fucking perfect!'

"You seem sick." it's the worry in her voice that makes me open my eyes.

Unconsciously I have bowed my head and rested it on the elbow pad on the armchair, closed my eyes and, as it appears, drifted off for more than half a second.

"Sorry." I mumble feeling drained out of energy already. 'And it's barely noon!'

Usually when the time comes, I spend the whole day sleeping and laying around, after making sure that my 'cage' is ready for the night. This way I manage to save and collect energy, ease the cramps in my stiffening muscles, minimize the damage the dehydration causes and mentally prepare myself for what's to come. Because in the end that's the worst part – knowing what and when the danger is coming and not being able to stop it in any way. The only thing you can do is just lie there, feeling lethargic and wondering if it's better to just cut your veins right away and get it over with. Because the only thing you will get is pain. No love. No hope for something better or improvement. Just plain, raw, old-fashioned pain. With time you start despising yourself and the choices you have made just because of that pain that eventually managed to get under your skin and slowly eat you alive. And one day you realise there's nothing left to fight for; no one will miss you, no one to water the plants on your grave with their tears. And in the end, when you realise just how fucked up everything is you have two options – give yourself a break, end it all, and have the rest you crave for, or keep on fighting, hoping that one day there will be some justice, even though you know there's no such thing.

"How can I help?" Hayley's voice brings me out of my thoughts and I blink a few times, chasing away the dizziness.

"If I say run as fast and as far away from here, would you do it?" even though I'm serious, a little smile creeps up my face at the realisation that she'd rather be chased around the house by a one-night bloodthirsty psychopath than return to the one who seems to have taken this up as a full-time job.

"I'll pass." she tilts her head to the side, her piercing eyes filled with determination.

"Then we will have to make a deal." my only option, as it seems, is to negotiate something somewhat passable for both of us.

"I'm listening."

"You can stay here for the night and after that if you promise me one thing."

She only nods, indicating that she's following.

"If I manage to somehow get out you'll immediately run out of that door and call either Klaus or Elijah."

"Why them?"

"Because they are overprotective and will do whatever they can to keep you safe and sound. Rebekah… well, she is a softy when it comes to me and will definitely come in and try to stop me. And I don't want to spill blood tonight. So promise me that if I get loose, you'll get out of here and call one of them." despite the hoarse sounds here and there, my voice is even and stern, emphasising that this is of great importance.

For some time Hayley stays silent, her calculating gaze weighting the options and probably coming up with a plan of her own. The hands of the clock strike twelve and a low ringing sound echoes through the empty house, bouncing off the walls.

"Fine. If I hear something I'll leave and call Elijah." her huff in the end indicates that, indeed, she prefers not to.

Nodding, I stand up and head to the second floor.

"Come, I'll show you something you may like."

The room we enter used to be a packed to the ceiling with junk closet according to an old house-journal I accidently found while looking around not so long ago. It seems that the previous owner was a one of those old-fashioned chroniclers that was in urgent need of space to stack all her journals and the closet turned out to be the best option. After cleaning it and throwing all the unnecessary rubbish out, the woman turned the otherwise small, claustrophobic room, into a fine office with shelves from floor to ceiling, filled with every kind of information a local may need. At first I was rather sceptic of the truthfulness in her scribbles, having in mind that a mere human can hardly keep up with all the things going on around New Orleans, but I was left rather astonished at how precise, and true, all her documents were. After some digging up I found a personal journal that contained all the answers I needed to find out what kind of a person that Betty-woman was. It appeared that she was no ordinary person at all. '_Possessed'_ she described herself as. Usually when I hear someone babbling about being possessed by something I turn around and leave as fast as possible, not even wanting to check if the said person has some kind of mental disorder or not. I was raised by the old laws of my people and so I belied that gods, and some other supernatural creatures for that matters, could channel parts of their energy into a living human being and either control most of the host's action or give him some kind of supernatural abilities they could use. I never came round to that old fable until I saw with my own two eyes a host. She was rather normal and, dare I say, simple to be honoured with the title 'host' in my understandings of the word at that time. But I was barely fifteen and I hardly found anything living up to my expectations. That was until I saw the said woman inflame herself, alongside with her hut, in which she was hiding some kinds of journals filled with centuries-old secrets. The day before she died she told me that the journals she was hiding were priceless, that only the ones who had the _sight_ could wield the knowledge encrypted in them. And that she, as a host of a powerful god, had the needed sight to find these people and give them the journals they may need. Then handed me one little red book, wrapped in goat's skin before ushering me out of her home, a terrified look in her eyes. The words _'Use it wisely!' _rang in my ears as I watched her burn alongside with her house the next day, only to protect the journals from falling into the wrong hands. Now that little book serves me right, as a mean to help people, to cure them; in it are written down most of the potions, poisons and their cures that ever existed.

Since that little encounter all my disbelief in that matter vanished and I swore to stay as far away as possible from such people. Getting lured and enchanted by power is bad, but getting greedy for knowledge that's not meant for you is a whole new degree of shit-will-go-down bad in my eyes. So I kept my distance, only occasionally throwing a sideways glance at some 'hosts' that were just too interesting to slip by unnoticed.

And Betty Eloquent seems to have been just that type of person. A chronicler, to be exact. Imagine my surprised face when I read her name /C'mon! Eloquent?! What kind of chronicler would she be?/ of her private journal and afterwards seeing she wasn't one of those people who would rather burn-down-alongside-my-documents then just leave. Because that's what she had done – pack her stuff and leave, abandoning all her life-long work here, where anyone could find it and read it.

My first though was to burn all those documents concerning the existence of Gods and all, because as it seems Betty here believed she was only partly possessed by Seshat, the Egyptian Goddess who was believed to be a record keeper among other things, and she found it her "duty" to write down all the things concerning the host-god relationship! I admit I felt tempted to read that part of the journal, but I decided against it, and skipped to the end, reminding myself that I shouldn't judge the poor woman, because for all I know she may have been made into believing she was only halfway possessed. Eventually I found out that she had moved away due to health problems, and with some 21st century research from my side, I read she had died thirty years ago in a hospital, diagnosed with a rare form of Alzheimer's , which left her with the memory of a new-born for nearly three years. All data of her existence had been destroyed in a fire, leaving no trails of her whereabouts before hospitalization.

Until I stumbled upon her house and became the legal owner of the property and the things it included, alongside the hidden closet and all the documents in it. As a precaution I had decided to go through most of the books if not all of them only to make sure there's no dangerous information in them, but a little piece of carton saved me at least a month-long work. It was a very detailed classifier which showed the way the journals were arranged, the things they contained, the date they were written, the area that's being examined and many more.

The closet and its content had slipped out of my mind and it would have stayed that way, until Hayley showed up and a series of words from the classifier struck me - _New Orleans/ Werewolves/ Crescent Wolf Clan_. And so the idea formed – if Hayley is to stay here during the night, and she obviously has no intention to leave, then I should at least keep her occupied for as long as I can, hoping that the depth study of her family's history would keep her quieter than a mouse, and preferably out of my sight when the night falls.

"I found some old journals in here that may help you." I nod towards a small pile near the desk – the last of the host's researches.

Hayley cautiously enters the office, looking around as if expecting a threat to emerge from the pieces of old paper, before kneeling next to the pile and reading the title. Even in my current weakening state I notice her body stiffening and the hand holding the classifier – shaking.

"I overheard a few things about you while I was here. And since the night's going to be long for both of us, I figured out at least you can do something productive."

The brunette stays silent and for a brief moment I wonder if I did the right thing by showing her the closet and the files it contained.

"Thank you." her low whisper almost slips past my ears as she raises up, carefully holding the pile.

"I'll be in my room resting until sundown. Then I'll go downstairs. You are free to do whatever you want until then. After that you'll lock the door and won't leave this room."

Hayley only nods, her straight face showing me that she's taking things seriously. And how wouldn't she? I grow weaker and petulant by the minute and a numb pain is coursing through my whole body in waves; my skin is ashy now, its usual bronze hue gone, there are huge bags under my eyes and my moves are a lot slower and lethargic. She basically sees first hand that I'm losing my strength slowly but surely.

"And one last thing." I add before stopping right next to the opened door, "While in that… state, I may do or even say things that are… let's say cruel and offensive, but do bear in mind that I won't recall any of it if I wake up tomorrow morning. While not myself, I don't have control over my actions and if… if I hurt you in any way before help comes I hope you will have the strength to forgive me." the last part is mostly whispered as my throat seems to clench painfully.

A dry cough makes me grip the frame of the door, fighting for my breath.

"What do you mean _if_ you wake up tomorrow morning?" Hayley seems truthfully concerned and I can't help but smile.

"This whole charade we are made to pass through was created with the only purpose to make us kill ourselves in the process. "

The young werewolves' eyes widen and a terrified expression crosses her face for a second before vanishing, anger taking its place.

"What the fuck's up with this shitty curses? What sick mind would come up with such torture?" and while she fusses around I can't help but smile sadly, the irony of this scene not staying hidden from me.

"If I wake up-"

"_When_ you wake up!" her interruption makes me chuckle.

"_When_ I wake up, remind me to tell you the story of how we got our heads in the bag. "

I walk out of the door and close it after me, but not before my sad whisper echoes in the silent room.

"If you would still want to even look at me by then."

I walk down the spiral staircase that leads to the winery and am immediately engulfed in the sweet odour of ripe grades, old wooden barrel and warmth, coming from the torches on the wall. As I slowly drag my feet to the hidden door a though, quite strange if I may add, crosses my mind and makes me halt near one of the big barrels. 'All this wine will go to waste. There's no one do drink it…' An image of red wine rivers running out of my house and into the land where it soaks in, giving the soil a nice brick red shade, bombard me, immediately followed by a headache.

Using the last remains of my strength I manage to drag my heavy and definitely not cooperative body to the hidden door and then into the other room, giving myself the needed time to make sure all the locks are in place. Then I enter the cage, to cold metal sending chills up and down my spine, and start rolling the chains around my ankles, one at a time. Even though I've been doing this for many years, every time an uneasy feeling settles deep in me, making me anxious, jumpy and agitated. Yet, thanks to this long practise, I know how to keep myself away from the brink of unconsciousness longer than my fellow damned. In taking deep gulps of oxygen and fastening the chains around my angles I try to chase away the images of the _very_ pregnant Hayley remaining _very_ close by, being _very_ confident and stubborn and making me feel _very_ edgy. 'Everything's going to be alright!' I chant, trying to persuade myself to believe in those words, only to end up feeling less and less convinced with each and every time I repeat them. 'I have never managed to break out of here! Definitely today won't be the day to bend these bars!' that's the last rational thought I have before the darkness looms over me, sending waves and waves of numbness.

Fooled by the false sense of drifting away, my body gambols and twists when the jolts of pain start stinging different nerves simultaneously, as if a giant scorpion is driving its incredibly long, sharp and poisonous sting into my flesh over and over again. I trash around, or at least think I'm doing it, but soon the darkness that until now crept around the corners of my vision, progresses rapidly forward, and my defence ends up being too weak, my willpower soon leaking away, and the world around me drowns in darkness.

_I feel my body sprawled horizontally on the cold marble floor. It hurts all over and something hot and sticky is pooling around my head. Suddenly sharp pain makes me yell and clench my right shoulder, trying to somehow protect myself._

"_Do you give up?" a female voice swirls, mock dripping from every word._

_I groan and whimper, the pain from my shoulder gradually spreading down my forearm. Obviously irritated by my lack of answer, the attacker drives her sword deeper into my flesh. I yell once again, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes._

"_Do you give up?" this time her snarl makes me open my eyes._

_The image of the woman is blurred, like she's hundreds of miles away while the weapon, that's at present using my shoulder as a personal, still pretty much alive, case, is crystal clear, all the ornaments neat and nicely engraved over the cold steel._

"_You are weak. Unworthy of being one of us." she pulls her sword out of my shoulder, disappointment and disgust mixing in her voice as she walks away. "It seems I misled myself regarding you and your none-existent abilities."_

_The chatter or her boots echoes in the empty room and with every step she takes I feel as if she's driving nails deep into my skull. _

_Turning to my side I manage to take a glimpse at her. A tall figure with broad shoulders and short hair. Yet after I blink the image has changed – a petite girl with long auburn locks just like mine, walking away, fresh blood dripping from her._

"_Sister…" my voice is low and hoarse, as if something is clenching me by the throat. _

_In the short interval between my collapsing and loss of consciousness and the darkness drowning me in its black waters, I see my sister's scared blue eyes look at me with an emotion that almost makes me jerk back up. Disappointment. Betrayal. _

"_It seems I misled myself…." the words echo in my head, the even and emotionless voice that repeats them belonging to me._

_The leaves are crunching under my feet, the still green and tender saplings being almost pulled out from the soil by my searching hands, desperately trying to grab on something, anything , that will help me reach the village faster. Despite my best attempts, I find my home, the place I grew up, though myself to Heal, and became an independent woman, engulfed in dark flames. The screams for help, the pained howls, the women's cries and the sound of cracking fire and the crumbling down of the temple accompany me all the way down the hill, into the village, down the burning streets, past the temple, and right to my hut. When I burst through the door, shouting my sister's name, I don't manage to spot the movement behind me. Rather sheer terror suffocates me as I run around my almost destroyed home, in despaired attempt to find my sister and my new-born baby. There's no one. Upon realising that I jump out of the wreck my home has turned into, and look around. _

_No one. Neither my sister's long auburn locks, nor my baby's inconsolable cries. My head spins, from the fear, from the running or from the smoke I inhaled, I don't know, but before I manage to steady myself, my body collapses, a numb pain in the back of my neck warning me of someone's unwanted presence._

_The next flashbacks are played out in front of me as consistently alternating fast and slow motion scenes. Everything happens in a fraction of the second. Like and outsider I watch my limp body being thrown on the cold, soaked by my people's blood, ground, right in the feet of a man who too much resembles a beast. His fingers are actually long sharp claws, his face is not human but wolf and a huge tail with spikes is wagging dangerously behind him. The words he growls are all muted. He gestures at someone and the flames throw shadows at the nearby tree. I manage to glimpse at a pair of blue scared eyes before the scene rapidly changes. _

_I'm back into my own body and while under usual circumstances I'd be feeling pain crush my body and try to drive me back into unconsciousness, these are no normal times. Instead of the physical pain, my body is being thrown in overload by emotions. Fear. Anger. Despair. Cluelessness. And while I try to fight the terror clenching my throat and preventing the oxygen from entering my body, the scene changes. One moment I'm on my knees, fighting for air, in the next I'm being held up and made to watch as werewolves rape my younger sister. Right in front of me. Showing no beginnings of tenderness what so ever. I feel myself trying to yell, to tell them to stop, but the words die in my mouth, not a single sound interrupting my sister's heart-shattering screams. It's slow and agonising as the time seems to have halted and I see my sister, my little innocent sister, being molested, and bled and tortured while I sit idly by, gaping like a fish. The tears run down my face like rivers, but their existence is pointless. _

_The next few scenes from that night pass in a heartbeat. My little baby, no more than a few months old, is brought out of the shadows by a wolf that has bitten into its legs. The air leaves my lungs with a whooshing sound and I try to move forward. A sharp pain in my arm, the digging of claws in my flesh, barely registers in my mind as my attackers try to keep me still. It's __**my**__ little girl that's being carried like a rag. It's her meek cries when the creature tosses her in the legs of that monstrous man that make something me snap and I feel every cell in my body charging with electricity, the mother in me fighting to help her child. _

"_Let this serve as a warning, Healer, to you and all those who dare cross us!" those are the first words I hear, and the only ones that the attackers said, or at least that stayed engraved in my memory. _

_Then he buries his sharp teeth in my baby and literally, right in front of my eyes, rips her apart. The scream that rips through my body vibrates in the air around me, but doesn't leave my mouth. I can only stare hopelessly at the appalling scene, mute and almost lifeless. _

_I'm lying on my back, my blood watering the ground around me. Again I'm numb. The only sense I still have working is my sight. And to my right lie the corpses of the two most precious creatures in the world for me. Their bodies mutilated, covered in blood and hanging pieces of flesh. I can't watch it anymore. I have been watching it for some time, and I just can't do it. My lids close and for a second I dare believe that I'll either die or at least faint. Instead darkness swallows me. With my sight gone, I feel helpless and weak._

_Then I hear it. A drop hitting the surface of water. In front of my closed lids materialises a small puddle, but instead of water, I see blood – thick and still fresh. Then a drop comes from nowhere and lands right into the middle, a loud dripping sound echoing in the grave silence. Suddenly, as if being overfilled, the puddle starts leaking. Gradually the little streams grow bigger and bigger and soon the whole space is immersed in blood. Warm blood. Innocent blood. The blood of my people. The blood of my sister. The blood of my baby. A loud splashing sound is heard and I bend over to see my reflexion in the blood. But instead of my own face, I see the face of my sister, twisted in pain, her eyes wide and staring into the oblivion and her lips opened as if to scream._

_Rage starts rising up in me and the blood around me starts boiling and I can sense myself trembling. I see red. I want vengeance. I want that man and his fellows' heads on a spike. My spike. I want to kill them. Never has the urge to kill someone, to inflict physical harm on someone been so strong. So devastating. So searing. I see rivers of blood everywhere I turn and imagine it's those beasts' blood that flows around me. _

_Another splash attracts my attention and I look at a puddle that swirls at my left. In it I see that same man butchered like a piece of meat, his guts wrapped around his throat, his bloody hands gripping the soil, huge holes gapping there, where his claws used to be. His legs are twisted in an unnatural angle, his face distorted in a mask of sheer terror and pain. A word breaks the bubble and the little pond disappears, mixing with the rest of the still flowing blood. __**Kill**__._

_Suddenly the whole space starts trembling and it's as if everything starts chanting that word. After every single time I grow angrier, more bloodthirsty, vengeful… I grow darker. _

"_Wake up…" a low whisper tries to break through the cacophony and reach me but I try to push it away._

"_It's not real…." the next one is the slightest bit louder but I ignore it._

"_You are dreaming….." again a little bit louder._

"_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up." the voice, distant yet familiar gains strength and volume and tries to rival the chanting of the blood._

_Yet every following word is louder than the previous one._

"_This is not real! Wake up!"_

_I try to shake it off, to push the voice away, to silence it._

"_IT'S NOT REAL! WAKE UP! ANGELIQUE WAKE UP!" the shout is loud and I feel someone shaking me._

My eyes fly open and I jump to my feet, ready to protect myself from whoever was shaking me so fiercely. A pair of clean blue eyes stare at me and I see lips moving, but words don't reach me. I try to pull away, to fight, to save myself. The chant is still fresh in my mind, the screams of the burning people audible and the blood warm. I can even feel blood in my mouth, its metallic taste stinging my tongue.

"It's alright, Angelique. Calm down. It's me." his calm voice manages to break the barrier of voices that surrounds me and I recognise it.

"Klaus." my own voice scares me, as it sounds so foreign, so hoarse.

Yet after realising that it's him, a small wave of relief washes over me, before panic settles in. I push him away and take a few steps back, looking around. I'm outside of my house and the rising of the sun is painting the grass in a nice hue of red and pink. It would have been nice to just sit and watch, but the terrifying scenes in my mind are still fresh and I can hardly keep myself standing. As I try to calm my beating heart and over and over remind myself that it had all been a dream, a hallucination, a nightmare, I start shaking slightly.

"Hayley!" my eyes widen and I look at Klaus, silently begging him to tell me she's alright.

"She's fine, don't worry. Shaken up, but fine." his body is still tense and by his posture I can tell he's being cautious, trying to not set me off with a sudden movement.

I simply nod and wrap my hands around myself. In some distant corner of my mind I notice that I'm naked, but at the moment that thought seems to not want to be registered by my brain.

"Did I… did I hurt…" the unknown sounding of my own voice makes me grit my teeth.

"You hurt no one. Put one hell of a fight, yes, but no one is in grave danger." he smiles and his compassionate gaze shows no sign of falsehood.

And then, as if just noticing his presence, I see him, notice _him_. Not just the messy hair, the torn clothes, the dried blood over his chest and the dimples on his face, but the man who seems to have been able to tame me, to keep me away from hurting others and myself, managed to bring me round, and was now trying to calm me down and offer some kind of solace and reassurance that, indeed, everything was going to be fine. 'They were telling me about a heartless monster, cruel and unforgiving, a beast, feeding off from fear and death. I don't see this beast now. I see a man who wants to help me get back of my feet, rather than push me back in the dirt. '

My eyes soften and that animal fear vanishes the moment his baby blue eyes look at me without judgement or fear, or anger, but with understanding and something else. Something warm and welcoming, yet foreign to us both. Deciding not to dwell of it, at least not now that is, I give him a small, genuine smile and nod in appreciation.

"Shall me go in?" his cockiness is back in a flash, his accent making him sound like he's purring.

It takes some time and a lot of persuasion to make Nicklaus leave and let me shower and get changed. By the time he's finally out of my room, thanks to Elijah who eventually was forced to drag him out, the sun is already up in the sky. With a tired sigh I shake my head and try not to pass out on my own bed.

"Little, brat, isn't he? And quite the protective one." states Rebekah while casually leaning on the wall, her blue eyes fixed on me almost expectantly.

Yet I feel too exhausted to fall in the sloppy trap she is setting for me, or at least tell her to grow up. Moreover, tiredness is usually accompanied by its dearest friend – hunger, and right now I feel like only by eating a whole cow will I be able satisfy this carnal need.

"You look like shit." another statement that is left ignored.

Instead I try to channel the leftovers of my energy into getting up, untying my robe and taking a freaking shower so that I can finally go to sleep. As ironic as it may seem, after spending the whole night sleeping and dreaming of past events, I feel like I haven't slept properly for over a week.

"Look, Becks, I just wanna shower and sleep so don't be so pushy." my voice is a poor excuse of a hush, yet I know the blonde heard me because she immediately pouts.

Thankfully, she stops talking and the awful headache that is splitting my brain in half starts subsiding. The silence drags long enough for me to finally reach my destination – the shower. Unfortunately, Rebekah follows me into the bathroom, oblivious of the death glares I shoot her way.

"Tonight was worse." her whisper is almost completely muted by the sound of falling water.

"That bad?" slowly but gradually my voice is returning, and now it sounds more like I have spent the night drinking rather than yelling.

"Yeah…" she looks at the mirror, her reflexion worried and obviously quite bothered.

'So it wasn't just me being critical. It was actually _bad_.' I muse while shampooing my hair. 'Probably shouldn't be surprised. At least not for now. I have yet to go around the house and in the basement…' washing away the foam I feel my body tensing. 'The cell. This time I broke it.'

It's been a week or so since the incident and since I last saw any of the Mikaelsons. The only one who totally neglected my request for some privacy was Hayley. She came by two days later, with a huge bag filled with random things – from my favourite type of chocolate to a book that I was dying to read but still hadn't bought. Of course I tried to send her away, using the poor excuse that I was still feeling tired, but she just looked at me with her 'spear-me-this-shit' look and walked by me and into the house. Eventually we sat down in the garden with cups of steaming tea and the biscuits she had brought. The silence prolonged for at least two minutes before she almost ordered me to tell her everything about my curse. I was rather irked by her show of bossing and she sensed it, immediately apologising. After that I told her everything. Firstly she was looking at me but the more I got into the story the more her gaze drifted away. By the time I finished she was biting her bottom lip, her eyes glassy.

"He told me… he saw something while he was trying to stop you…_memories_... mentioned you had your reasons to hate all werewolves and that now he understood… but this…"

Hayley looked genuinely shaken by all the information I had thrown at her; not only about the curse but also why I had grown so hostile towards her kind.

"Klaus told you?!" taken aback I almost choked on my tea.

She just nodded and shook her head, as if refusing to believe such vile creatures ever existed.

"He… he told us to let you rest and calm down. He even _forbade_ Rebekah to call you and ask you what had…"

"What had what?"

"What had snapped in you this time, making you so violent. She said she had never seen you so bloodthirsty and dangerous."

A sad smile was all I gave her, the warm wind blowing a petal in my lap. I took it and spun it between my thumb and middle finger.

"Life is full of mysteries, Hayley. It's also a continuous cycle of turning points. It's rather hard to pinpoint what exactly set me off this time or if it will happen again. But one thing I know for sure – in the end, if you fight hard enough and believe in yourself, no matter the obstacles life throws at you, you'll somehow overcome it. All of it."

"Personal experience?"

I nodded and smiled, still mesmerized by the leaf in my hands.

Hayley left an hour or so later, not without thanking me for the files I had given her. She didn't tell me whether they were helpful or not, but I decided not to push her either. Before leaving, though, a worried look set on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but… the mansion has been a warzone ever since that night. Klaus has gone rampage. Elijah and Rebekah are trying to reason with him but his paranoia of being left alone is getting out of control. I'm not sure how far he is willing to go… "

"You are worried?"

"He'll go insane if all this keeps up. And he'll become even more dangerous."

"I thought you hated him?"

"Now I pity him – he seems to have always been left behind, or at least he thinks that way."

I nodded but said nothing more, letting her leave.

Now I find myself in front of the Abattoir, the sound of ripping and crashing greeting me at the door. 'This sounds promising…' I muse sarcastically and enter… and duck just in time as something big and heavy flies my way, only to collide with the stone wall behind me. When I stand up and glance over my shoulder I see that it's a chair… or it was a chair, as now it's just a pile of firewood.

"Is that a way to welcome a guest?" I shout as I enter the living room, or at least what's left of it.

Only to stumble upon a fight between the brothers. Looking at Rebekah for explanation she just groans and shakes her head, the words 'gone insane' the only thing I manage to hear over the shouting and breaking of furniture.

"Ok, enough is enough." I mutter and pull my daggers out.

"What are you doing?" Rebekah's voice seems to have reached new heights.

"Parting your brothers." I reply and literally walk right between them.

The fists are stopped in mid-air and the growling is halted. The dagger in my left hand is poking the flesh over Nicklaus's heart and the one in the right is pressed against Elijah's throat.

"I think you have destroyed the house enough. Let's take a break, shall we?"

It's not a question as I press the sharp weapons more firmly against their bodies, indicating that 'no' is not an option.

They part, Elijah going to Hayley and Rebekah and Klaus staying alone near the wall. I pretend to be following the movements of the oldest sibling but am actually looking at the youngest with my peripheral vision. And the thing I manage to glimpse makes my heart ache. The pain, the betrayal and the sorrow swirl in his blue eyes for a second or two before his jaw clenches and he pushes all emotions away, letting anger and hate take their place. In an instance he is gone, the loud banging if his door indicating his current mood.

Ignoring the chat behind my back I look at the staircase and wonder what would be the right thing to do. My Huntress side tells me to stay away from the half-werewolf and his family drama as it's none of my business, but the Healer in me saw the pain written all over Klaus's face and wants to help in any way possible.

"I'll go and talk to him." I hear myself say.

"What!?" shrieks Rebekah, "Have you gone nuts as well. He's out of his mind right now."

"Leaving him alone will only make things worse." I try to reason with her while making my way to the stairs.

Yet she blocks my path, her hands on her hips.

"No way I'm letting you anywhere near him!"

I look her straight in the eyes and see what makes her act this way – fear. Primal fear. That's the look of a deer that just realised that a hungry wolf is lurking around.

"I know what's like to be alone, Rebekah. And, truth to be told, I owe him at least this much."

"You owe him nothing!" she argues even after the realisation that she has lost this argument struck her.

"He was there that night and saw what happened. And never judged me, or left me alone for that matter. All I can do is offer my support and see how things work out."

She gives me her stiff upper lip but I smirk and pat her on the shoulder.

"Let me do this."

His room is huge yet kind of empty looking. The king-sized bed, the wardrobe and his 'art' corner barely take half the space provided for furniture and personal items. As I look around, mostly at the painting he's currently working on, I don't fail to notice his absence. The sound of running water tells me that he's at least trying to cool himself down, so I enjoy a few more minutes of calmness, while examining the painting.

"What are you doing here?" he doesn't sound angry or bothered, just curious.

"Came to keep you company. Guessed you needed it." I state while still with my back to him.

I hear his steps as he walks around, then the sound of the opening of the wardrobe, its closing and the shuffling of clothes. With the corner of my eye I catch a white thing, his towel, flying across the room and ending on a chair.

"You guessed wrong. I don't need your company. Or anyone's for that matter."

I snort and roll my eyes.

"Drop the macho look. I'm not an idiot and surely you aren't as well. No need to keep pretending."

He laughs, but the last fake sounds make me believe that he's forcing himself.

"Oh, really? And what exactly am I pretending to be?"

"Unfazed by the fact that you feel lonely even surrounded by masses of people."

I manage to glimpse at his body stiffening and decide to finally turn around.

"I know what's like to feel forgotten, left behind, unwanted. And I'm telling you that most of it is in your head."

"You know nothing!" he grits out the words, anger fuelling his more aggressive side.

'That one side I'm sworn to kill. C'mon Klaus! Don't make me do this.' I frown and feel my body getting ready to attack.

"Don't think you know me! Nobody knows me!" he is at the verge of breaking and I fear that the things will take a bloody turn if this keeps up.

"Just let me help you." trying to reason with him is almost impossible, yet I try.

"I. DON' .HELP!" he roars and charges.

His Hybrid form would have terrified me if sorrow hadn't preoccupied my heart at that moment. But even the sadness is pushed away by rage – the same red, blinding rage that controls him.

My daggers are out in an instance and my body goes autopilot as I duck, attack, step back, step forward and try to land a hit that will stop him. But when rage and pain position your arm, it's easier to kill rather than stop.

We meet in the centre, his claws against my daggers, and I relive my nightmares in a single instance. I don't know whether he wanted to grab me, or slice through me but I acted first and drove my dagger deep into his chest, to the hilt.

Only when his warm blood washes over my hand and his yellow eyes disappear do I realise what I just did.

"Klaus." his name, for all I care, could have been either a low whisper or a shout.


End file.
